mwriffiiiiiiiii   II 


EDEN  PHILLPOTTS 


MtMMMMiMMWUMMi 


1'- 


X 


THE  HUMAN  BOY 
AND  THE  WAR 


THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

NEW  YORK  •    BOSTON   •    CHICAGO  •    DALLAS 
ATLANTA   •    SAN  FRANCISCO 

MACMILLAN  &  CO..  Limited 

LONDON  •  BOMBAY  •  CALCUTTA 
MELBOURNE 

THE  MACMILLAN  CO.  OF  CANADA,  Ltd. 

TORONTO 


THE  HUMAN  BOY 
AND  THE  WAR 


BY 

EDEN  PHILLPOTTS 


■'  '''  '^      ^.' r\'..r.  \    '.'  \\  \^\ ',: 

'   •  "       "  •  ;     t    '     \  ^  J   J      >   J  •>    ^      '  •>     .  >  ^  ' 

'33        3"      ir,'        >         333 

3  33333.  3  ) 

3  ■>       '  l\      3  3     3         , 

3  33       3j3^         j^ 

3        3 


THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

1916 

All  rights  reserved 


Copyright  1916 
By  the  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

Set  up  and  electrotyped.     Published  June,  1916 

Reprinted  October,  1916. 


3-  w^^n 


-^ 

> 


f  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

The  Battle  of  the  Sand-pit 3 

^       The  Mystery  of  Fortescue 26 

The  Countryman  of  Kant 45 

Travers   Minor,   Scout 68 

^  The  Hutchings  Testimonial 91 

gTHE  Fight 115 

Percy  Minimus  and  His  Tommy 141 

The  Prize  Poem 160 

The   Revenge 183 

The  "  Turbot's  "  Aunt 205 

Cornwallis  and  Me  and  Fate 225 

For  the  Red  Cross 249 

The  Last  of  Mitchell 273 


THE  HUMAN  BOY 
AND  THE  WAR 


THE  HUMAN  BOY 
AND  THE  WAR 

THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  SAND-PIT 

After  the  war  had  fairly  got  going,  naturally  we 
thought  a  good  deal  about  it,  and  it  was  explained 
to  us  by  Fortescue  that,  behind  the  theory  of  Ger- 
many licking  us,  or  us  licking  Germany,  as  the 
case  might  be,  there  were  two  great  psychical  ideas. 
As  I  was  going  to  be  a  soldier  myself,  the  actual 
fighting  interested  me  most,  but  the  psychical  ideas 
were  also  interesting,  because  Fortescue  said  that 
often  the  cause  won  the  battle.  Therefore  it  was 
better  to  have  a  good  psychical  idea  behind  you,  like 
us,  than  a  rotten  one,  like  Germany.  I  always 
thought  the  best  men  and  the  best  ships  and  the 
best  brains  and  the  most  money  were  simply  bound 
to  come  out  top  in  the  long  run ;  but  Fortescue  said 
that  a  bad  psychical  idea  behind  these  things  often 
wrecks  the  whole  show.  And  so  I  asked  him  if  we 
had  got  a  good  psychical  idea  behind  us,  and  he 

3 


4  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

said  we  had  a  champion  one,  whereas  the  Germans 
were  trusting  to  a  perfectly  deadly  psychical  idea, 
which  was  bound  to  have  wrecked  them  in  any  case 
—  even  if  they'd  had  twenty  million  men  instead  of 
ten. 

So  that  was  all  right,  though,  no  doubt,  the  Ger- 
mans think  their  idea  of  being  top  dog  of  the 
whole  world  is  really  finer  than  ours,  which  is 
"  Live  and  let  live."  And,  as  I  pointed  out  to 
Fortescue,  no  doubt  if  we  had  such  a  fearfully  fine 
opinion  of  ourselves  as  the  Germans  have,  then  we 
also  should  want  to  be  top  dog  of  the  world. 

And  Fortescue  said:  — 

"  That's  just  it,  Travers  major.  Thanks  to  our 
sane  policy  of  respecting  the  rights  of  all  men,  and 
never  setting  ourselves  up  as  the  only  nation  that 
counts,  we  do  count  —  first  and  foremost;  but  if 
we'd  gone  out  into  the  whole  earth  and  bawled  that 
we  were  going  to  make  it  Anglo-Saxon,  then  we 
should  have  been  laughed  at,  as  the  Germans  are 
now;  and  we  should  dismally  have  failed  as  colon- 
ists, just  as  they  have." 

So,  of  course,  I  saw  all  he  meant  by  his  psychical 
idea,  and  no  doubt  it  was  a  jolly  fine  thought ;  and 
most,  though  not  all,  of  the  Sixth  saw  it  also.  But 
the  Fifth  saw  it  less,  and  the  Fourth  didn't  see  it 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  SAND-PIT  5 

at  all.  The  Fourth  were,  in  fact,  rather  an  earthy 
lot  about  this  time,  and  they  seemed  to  have  a 
foggy  sort  of  notion  that  might  is  right;  or,  if  it 
isn't,  it  generally  comes  out  right,  which  to  the 
minds  of  the  Fourth  amounted  to  the  same  thing. 

The  war  naturally  had  a  large  effect  upon  us,  and 
according  as  we  looked  at  the  war,  so  you  could 
judge  of  our  opinions  in  general,  I  and  my  brother, 
Travers  minor,  and  Briggs  and  Saunders  —  though 
Briggs  and  Travers  minor  were  themselves  in  the 
Lower  Fourth  —  were  interested  in  the  strategy  and 
higher  command.  We  foretold  what  was  going  to 
happen  next,  and  were  sometimes  quite  right; 
whereas  chaps  like  Abbott  and  Blades  and  Mitchell 
and  Pegram  and  Rice  were  only  interested  in  the 
brutal  part,  and  the  bloodshed  and  the  grim  par- 
ticulars about  the  enemy's  trenches  after  a  sortie, 
and  so  on. 

In  time,  curiously  enough,  there  got  to  be  two 
war  parties  in  the  school.  Of  course  they  both 
wanted  England  to  win,  but  we  took  a  higher  line 
about  it,  and  looked  on  to  the  end,  and  argued  about 
the  division  of  the  spoil,  and  the  general  improve- 
ment of  Europe,  and  the  new  map,  and  the  advance- 
ment of  better  ideas,  and  so  on ;  while  Rice  and 
Pegram  and  such-like  took  the  "  horrible  slaugh- 


6  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

ter "  line,  and  rejoiced  to  hear  of  parties  sur- 
rounded, and  Uhlans  who  had  been  eating  hay  for 
a  week  before  they  were  captured,  and  the  decks 
of  battleships  just  before  they  sank,  and  such-like 
necessary  but  very  unfortunate  things. 

I  said  to  Mitchell  — 

"  It  may  interest  you  to  know  that  real  soldiers 
never  talk  about  the  hideous  side  of  war;  and  it 
would  be  a  good  deal  more  classy  if  you  chaps  tried 
to  understand  the  meaning  of  it  all,  instead  of 
wallowing  in  the  dreadful  details." 

And  Mitchell  answered  — 

"  The  details  bring  it  home  to  us  and  make  us 
see  red." 

And  I  replied  to  Mitchell  — 

"  What  the  dickens  d'you  want  to  see  red 
for?" 

And  he  said  — 

"  Everybody  ought  to  at  a  time  like  this." 

Of  course,  with  such  ignorance  you  can't  argue, 
any  more  than  you  could  with  Eice,  when  he  swore 
that  he'd  give  up  his  home  and  family  gladly  in  ex- 
change for  the  heavenly  joy  of  putting  a  bayonet 
through  a  German  oflScer.  It  wasn't  the  spirit  of 
war,  and  I  told  him  so,  and  he  called  me  "von 
Travers,"  and  said  that  as  I  was  going  to  be  a 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  SAND-PIT  7 

soldier,  he  hoped,  for  the  sake  of  the  United  King- 
dom in  general,  there  would  be  no  war  while  I  was 
in  command  of  anybody. 

Gradually  there  got  to  be  a  bit  of  feeling  in  the 
air,  and  we  gave  out  that  we  stood  for  tactics  and 
strategy  and  brain-power,  and  Rice  and  his  lot 
gave  out  that  they  stood  for  hacking  their  way 
through.  And  as  for  strategy,  they  had  the  cheek 
to  say  that,  if  it  came  to  actual  battle,  the  Fourth 
would  back  its  strategy  against  the  Sixth  every  time. 
It  was  a  sort  of  challenge,  in  fact,  and  rested  chiefly 
on  their  complete  ignorance  of  what  strategy  really 
meant. 

When  I  asked  Mitchell  who  were  the  strategists 
of  the  Fourth,  he  gave  it  away  by  saying  — 

"  Me  and  Pegram." 

Well,  he  and  Pegram  were  merely  cunning  — 
nothing  more.  Mitchell  was  a  good  mathematician, 
and  in  money  matters  he  excelled  on  a  low  plane; 
while  Pegram  was  admitted  to  be  a  master  in  the 
art  of  cribbing,  but  no  other.  His  bent  of  mind 
had  been  attracted  to  the  subject  of  cribbing  from 
the  first,  and  while  I  hated  him,  and  knew  that  he 
could  never  come  to  much  good,  I  was  bound  to 
admit  the  stories  told  about  his  cribbing  exploits 
showed  great  ingenuity  combined  with  nerve.     By 


8  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

a  bitter  irony,  theology  was  his  best  subject,  but 
only  thanks  to  the  possession  of  a  Bible  one  inch 
square.  He  had  found  it  when  doing  Christmas 
shopping  with  his  aunt,  who  was  his  only  relation, 
owing  to  his  being  an  orphan,  and  when  he  asked 
her  to  buy  it  for  him  as  one  of  his  Christmas  pres- 
ents, she  did  so  with  pleasure  and  surprise,  little 
dreaming  of  what  was  passing  in  his  mind.  I  never 
saw  the  book,  nor  wished  to  see  it,  but  Briggs,  who 
did,  told  me  it  contained  everything,  only  in  such 
frightfully  small  print  that  you  wanted  a  magnify- 
ing glass  to  read  it.  Needless  to  say,  Pegram  had 
the  magnifying  glass.  And,  thus  armed,  he  natu- 
rally did  Scripture  papers  second  to  none.  He  also 
manipulated  a  catapult  for  the  benefit  of  his  friends 
in  the  Lower  Fourth,  of  whom  he  had  a  great  many, 
and  with  this  instrument,  such  was  his  delicacy  of 
aim,  he  could  send  answers  to  questions  in  an  ex- 
amination through  the  air  to  other  chaps,  in  the 
shape  of  paper  pillets.  He  could  also  hurl  insults 
In  this  way,  or,  in  fact,  anything.  Once  he  actually 
fired  his  Bible  across  three  rows  of  forms  to  Ab- 
bott. It  flew  through  the  air  and  fell  at  Abbott's 
feet,  who  instantly  put  one  on  it.  But  Brown, 
who  was  the  master  in  command  on  the  occasion, 
looked  up  at  the  critical  moment  and  saw  a  strange 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  SAND-PIT  9 

object  passing  through  the  air.     Only  he  failed  to 
mark  it  down. 

"What  was  that?"  said  Brown  to  Rice,  who 
sat  three  chaps  off  Abbott. 

"A  moth,  I  think,  sir,"  said  Rice. 

"  Extraordinary  time  for  a  moth  to  be  flying," 
said  Brown. 

"  Very,  sir,"  said  Rice. 

"  Don't  let  it  occur  again,  anyway,"  said  Brown, 
who  never  investigated  anything,  but  always  or- 
dered that  it  shouldn't  occur  again. 

"  No,  sir,"  said  Rice. 

Then  Abbott  bent  down  to  scratch  his  ankle,  and 
all  was  well. 

And  this  Pegram  was  supposed  to  have  strategy 
as  good  as  ours ! 

I  never  thought  a  real  chance  of  a  conflict  w^ould 
come,  but  it  actually  did  in  a  most  unexpected 
manner  just  before  the  holidays.  The  weather 
turned  cold  for  a  week,  and  then,  after  about  three 
frosts,  we  had  a  big  snow,  and  in  about  a  day  and 
a  night  there  was  nearly  a  foot  of  it.  And,  walk- 
ing through  the  West  Wood  with  Blades,  I  pointed 
out  that  the  sand-pit,  under  the  ^dge  of  the  flr  trees, 
would  be  a  very  fine  spot  for  a  battle  on  a  small 
scale. 


10  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

I  said  — 

"  If  one  army  was  above  the  sand-pit,  and  an- 
other army  was  down  here,  trying  to  storm  the 
position,  there  would  be  an  opportunity  for  a  re- 
markably good  fight  and  plenty  of  strategy;  and 
if  I  led  the  Fifth  and  Sixth  against  the  sand-pit, 
or  if  I  defended  the  sand-pit  against  attacks  by  the 
Upper  and  Lower  Fourth,  the  result  would  be  very 
interesting." 

And  Blades  agreed  with  me.  He  said  he  believed 
that  it  would  give  the  Upper  and  Lower  Fourth 
frightful  pleasure  to  have  a  l)attle,  and  he  was  cer- 
tain they  would  be  exceeding!}^  pleased  at  the  idea. 
In  fact,  he  went  off  at  once  to  find  Pegram  and,  if 
possible.  Rice  and  Mitchell.  The  school  was  tak- 
ing a  walk  that  afternoon,  as  the  football  ground 
was  eight  inches  under  snow;  and  some  were  dig- 
ging in  the  snow  for  eating  chestnuts,  of  which  a 
good  many  were  to  be  found  in  West  Wood,  and 
others  were  scattered  about.  So  Blades  went  to 
find  Mitchell,  Rice,  and  Pegram,  and  I  considered 
the  situation.  The  edge  of  the  sand-pit  was  about 
eight  feet  high,  and  a  frontal  attack  would  have 
been  very  difficult,  if  not  impossible ;  but  there  was 
an  approach  on  the  left  —  a  gradual  slope,  fairly 
easy  —  and  another  on  the  right,  rather  diflflcult,  as 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  SAND-PIT         11 

it  consisted  of  loose  stones  and  tree  roots.  On  the 
whole,  I  thought  I  would  rather  defend  than  attack ; 
but  as,  if  anything  came  of  it,  I  should  be  the  chal- 
lenger, I  felt  it  would  be  more  sporting  to  let  the 
foe  choose. 

Then  Rice  and  Mitchell  came  back  with  Blades, 
and  they  said  that  nothing  would  give  them  greater 
pleasure  than  a  fight.  They  had  heard  my  idea,  and 
thought  exceedingly  well  of  it.  They  examined 
the  spot  and  pretended  to  consider  strategy,  but, 
of  course,  they  knew  nothing  about  the  possibil- 
ities of  defence  and  attack.  What  they  really 
wanted  to  know  was  how  many  troops  they  would 
have,  and  how  many  we  should.  We  counted  up 
and  found  that  in  the  Fifth  and  Sixth,  leaving  out 
about  four  who  were  useless,  and  Perkins,  who 
would  have  been  valuable,  but  was  crocked  at  footer 
for  the  moment,  we  should  number  thirty -one,  while 
the  Upper  and  Lower  Fourth  would  have  thirty- 
eight.  I  agreed  to  that,  and  Rice  made  the  rather 
good  suggestion  that  we  should  each  have  ten  kids 
behind  the  fighting  line  to  make  ammunition.  And 
I  said  I  hoped  there  would  be  no  stones  in  the 
snowballs,  and  Mitchell  said  the  Fourth  didn't  con- 
sist of  Germans,  and  I  might  be  sure  they  would 
fight  as  fair  as  we  did,  if  not  fairer. 


12  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

So  it  was  settled  for  the  next  Saturday,  and 
Brown  and  Fortescue  consented  to  umpire  the 
battle,  and  Fortescue  showed  great  interest  in  it. 

There  were  a  good  many  preliminaries  to  decide, 
and  I  asked  Mitchell  what  chap  was  to  be  general- 
in-chief  for  the  Fourth,  and,  much  to  my  surprise, 
he  said  that  Pegram  was.  And,  still  more  to  my 
surprise,  he  said  that  Pegram  wished  to  attack  and 
not  defend.  This  alone  showed  how  little  they 
knew  about  strategy ;  but  I  only  said  "  All  right," 
and  Mitchell  actually  said  that  Pegram  backed  the 
Fourth  to  take  the  sand-pit  inside  an  hour !  And  I 
said  that  pride  generally  went  before  a  fall.  Then 
I  saw  Pegram  —  which  was  at  a  meeting  of  the  com- 
manders-in-chief —  and  we  arranged  all  the  details. 
He  asked  about  the  fallen,  and  I  said  that  nobody 
would  fall ;  but  he  said  he  thought  some  very  likely 
would ;  and  he  also  said  that  it  would  be  more  like 
the  real  thing  and  more  a  reward  for  strategy  if, 
when  anybody  was  fairly  bowled  over  in  the  battle 
and  prevented  from  continuing  without  a  rest,  that 
that  soldier  was  considered  as  a  casualty  and  taken 
to  the  rear.  This  was  pretty  good  for  Pegram ;  but 
as  our  superior  position  on  the  top  of  the  sand-pit 
was  bound  to  make  our  fire  more  severe  than  his, 
and  put  more  of  his  men  out  of  action,  I  pointed 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  SAND-PIT         13 

that  out.  But  he  said  that  if  I  thought  our  fire 
would  be  more  severe  than  his,  I  was  much  mis- 
taken. He  said  the  volume  of  his  fire  would  be 
greater,  which  was  true.  So  I  let  him  have  his  way, 
and  we  each  selected  ten  kids  for  the  ammunition. 
Travers  minor  didn't  much  like  fighting  against 
me,  but,  of  course,  he  had  to,  though  it  was  rather 
typical  of  Mitchell  and  Pegram  that  they  were  very 
suspicious  of  him  before  the  battle,  and  wouldn't 
tell  him  any  of  the  strategy,  or  give  him  a  com- 
mand in  their  army,  for  fear  of  his  being  a  traitor. 
And  they  felt  the  same  to  Briggs,  though,  of  course, 
Briggs  and  Travers  minor  were  really  just  as  keen 
about  victory  for  the  Fourth  as  anybody  else  in  it. 
And  the  only  reason  why  my  brother  didn't  like 
fighting  against  me  was  that,  with  my  strategy,  he 
felt  pretty  sure  I  must  win. 

The  generals  —  Pegram  and  I  —  visited  the 
battlefield  twice  more,  and  arranged  where  the 
wounded  were  to  lie  and  where  the  umpires  were  to 
stand,  in  comparative  safety  behind  a  tree  on  the 
right  wing ;  but,  of  course,  we  didn't  discuss  tactics 
or  say  a  word  about  our  battle  plans.  The  fight 
was  to  last  one  hour,  and  if  at  the  end  of  that  time 
we  still  held  the  sand-pit,  we  were  the  victors. 
And  for  half  an  hour  before  the  battle  began,  we 


14  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

were  to  make  ammunition  and  pile  snow  and  do 
what  we  liked  to  increase  the  chances  of  victory. 

I,  of  course,  led  the  Fifth  and  Sixth,  and  under 
me  I  had  Saunders,  as  general  of  the  Sixth,  and 
Norris,  as  general  of  the  Fifth.  As  for  the  enemy, 
Pegram  was  generalissimo,  to  use  his  own  word, 
and  Rice  and  Abbott  and  Mitchell  and  Blades  were 
his  captains.  It  got  jolly  interesting  just  before 
the  battle,  and  everybody  was  frightfully  keen,  and 
the  kids  who  were  not  doing  orderly  and  red-cross 
work,  were  allowed  to  stand  on  a  slight  hill  fifty 
yards  from  the  sand-pit  and  watch  the  struggle. 

And  on  the  morning  of  the  great  day,  happening 
to  meet  Rice  and  Mitchell,  I  asked  them  what  was 
the  psychical  idea  behind  the  attack  of  the  Fourth ; 
and  Rice  said  his  psychical  idea  was  to  give  the 
Sixth  about  the  worst  time  it  had  ever  had;  and 
Mitchell  said  his  psychical  idea  was  to  make  the 
Sixth  wish  it  had  never  been  born.  Thev  meant  it, 
too,  for  there  was  a  lot  of  bitter  feeling  against  us, 
and  I  realised  that  we  were  in  for  a  real  battle, 
though  there  could  only  be  one  end,  of  course. 
They  had  thirty-eight  fighters  to  our  thirty-one, 
and  they  had  rather  the  best  of  the  weight  and  size ; 
but  in  the  Sixth  we  had  Forbes  and  Forrester,  both 
of  the  first  eleven  and  hard  chuckers ;  and  we  had 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  SAND-PIT         15 

three  other  hard  chuckers  and  first  eleven  men  in 
the  Fifth,  besides  Williams,  who  was  the  champion 
long-distance  cricket  ball  thrower  in  the  school. 

We  had  all  practised  a  good  deal,  and  also  in- 
structed the  kids  in  the  art  of  making  snowballs 
hard  and  solid.  The  general  feeling  with  us  was 
that  we  had  the  brains  and  the  strategy,  while  the 
Fourth  had  rather  the  heavier  metal,  but  would  not 
apply  it  so  well  as  us.  When  a  man  fell,  the  am- 
bulance, in  the  shape  of  two  red-cross  kids,  was  to 
conduct  him  to  a  place  safe  from  fire  in  the  rear; 
and  when  he  was  being  taken  from  the  firing-line,  he 
was  not  to  be  fired  at,  but  the  battle  was  to  go  on, 
though  the  red-cross  kids  were  to  be  respected.  I 
should  like  to  draw  a  diagram  of  the  field,  like  the 
diagrams  in  the  newspapers,  but  that  I  cannot  do. 
I  can,  however,  explain  that,  when  the  great  mo- 
ment arrived,  I  manned  the  top  of  the  sand-pit  with 
my  army,  and  during  the  half  hour  of  preparation 
threw  up  a  wall  of  snow  all  along  the  front  of 
the  sand-pit  nearly  three  feet  high.  And  along 
this  wall  I  arranged  the  Fifth,  led  by  Norris,  on  the 
right  wing.  Five  men,  commanded  by  Saunders, 
specially  guarded  the  incline  on  the  left,  which  was 
our  weak  spot,  and  the  remaining  ten  men,  all  from 
the  Sixth,  took  up  a  position  five  yards  to  the  rear 


16  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAB 

and  above  the  front  line,  in  such  a  position  that 
they  could  drop  curtain  fire  freely  over  the  Fifth. 
I,  being  the  Grand  Staff,  took  up  a  position  on  the 
right  wing  on  a  small  elevation  above  the  army, 
from  which  I  could  see  the  battle  in  every  particu- 
lar ;  and  Thwaites,  of  the  Sixth,  who  was  too  small 
and  weak  to  be  of  any  use  in  the  fighting  lines,  was 
my  adjutant  to  run  messages  and  take  any  neces- 
sary orders  to  the  wings. 

As  for  the  enemy,  they  made  no  entrenchments  or 
anything  of  the  kind,  though  they  watched  our  dis- 
positions with  a  great  deal  of  interest.  Pegram 
studied  the  incline  on  our  wing,  and  evidently  had 
some  ideas  about  a  frontal  attack  also,  which  would 
certainly  mean  ruin  for  him  if  he  tried  it,  as  it  would 
have  been  impossible  to  rush  the  sand-pit  from  the 
front.  They  made  an  enormous  amount  of  ammu- 
nition, and  as  they  piled  it  within  thirty  yards  of 
our  parapet,  they  evidently  meant  to  come  to  close 
quarters  from  the  first.  I  was  pleased  to  observe 
this.  They  arranged  their  line  rather  well,  in  a 
crescent  converging  upon  our  wings ;  but  there  was 
no  rearguard  and  no  reserve,  so  it  was  clear  every- 
body was  going  into  action  at  once.  The  officers 
were  distinguished  by  wearing  white  footer  shirts, 
which  made  them  far  too  conspicuous  objects,  and 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  SAND-PIT         17 

it  was  clear  that  Pegram  was  not  going  to  regard 
himself  as  a  Grand  Staff,  but  just  fight  with  the 
rest.  Needless  to  say,  I  was  prepared  to  do  the 
same,  and  throw  myself  into  the  thickest  of  it  if 
the  battle  needed  me  and  things  got  critical.  But 
I  felt,  somehow,  from  the  first  that  we  were  im- 
pregnable. 

Well,  the  battle  began  by  Fortescue  blowing  a 
referee's  football  whistle,  and  instantly  the  strategy 
of  the  enemy  was  made  apparent.  They  opened  a 
terrific  fire,  and  their  one  idea  evidently  was  to 
annihilate  the  Sixth.  They  ignored  the  Fifth,  but 
poured  their  entire  fire  upon  the  Sixth ;  and  a  spe- 
cial firing-party  of  about  six  or  seven  chosen  shots, 
or  sharpshooters,  poured  their  entire  fire  on  me, 
where  I  stood  alone.  About  ten  snowballs  hit  me 
the  moment  Fortescue's  whistle  went,  and  the  posi- 
tion at  once  became  untenable  and  also  dangerous. 
So  I  retired  to  the  Sixth,  and  sent  word  to  the 
Fifth  by  Thwaites  to  very  much  increase  the  rapid- 
ity of  their  fire.  Which  they  did ;  and  Pegram  ap- 
pealed that  I  was  out  of  action,  but  Fortescue  said 
I  was  not. 

It  was  exceedingly  like  the  Great  War  in  a  way, 
and  the  Fourth  evidently  felt  to  the  Fifth  and 
Sixth  what  the  Germans  felt  to  the  French  and 


18  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

English.  They  merely  hated  the  Fifth,  but  they 
fairly  loathed  the  Sixth,  and  wanted  to  put  them 
all  out  of  action  in  the  first  five  minutes  of  the 
battle.  Needless  to  say,  they  failed;  but  we  lost 
Saunders,  who  somehow  caught  it  so  hot,  guarding 
the  slope,  that  he  got  winded  and  his  nose  began 
to  bleed  at  the  same  moment,  which  was  a  weakness 
of  his,  brought  on  suddenly  by  a  snowball  at  rather 
close  range.  So  he  fell,  and  the  red-cross  kids  took 
him  out  of  danger.  This  infuriated  us,  and,  keep- 
ing our  nerve  well,  we  concentrated  our  fire  on 
Mitchell,  who  had  come  far  too  close  after  the 
success  with  Saunders.  A  fair  avalanche  of  snow- 
balls battered  him,  and  he  went  down ;  and  though 
he  got  up  instantly,  it  was  only  to  fall  again. 
And  Fortescue  gave  him  out,  and  he  was  conducted 
to  a  ruined  cowshed,  where  the  enemy's  ambulance 
stood  in  the  rear  of  their  lines. 

I  had  already  ordered  the  Sixth  to  take  open 
formation  and  scatter  through  the  Fifth ;  and  this 
undoubtedly  saved  them,  for  though  we  lost  my 
aide-de-camp,  Thwaites,  who  was  no  fighter  and 
nearly  fainted,  and  was  jolly  glad  to  be  numbered 
with  those  out  of  action,  for  some  time  afterwards 
we  lost  nobody,  and  held  our  own  with  ease.  Once 
or  twice  I  took  a  hand,  but  it  wasn't  necessary,  and 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  SAND-PIT         19 

when  we  fairly  settled  to  work,  we  made  them  see 
they  couldn't  live  within  fifteen  yards  of  us.  They 
made  several  rushes,  however,  but,  by  a  happy 
strategy,  I  always  directed  our  fire  on  the  individ- 
ual when  he  came  in,  and  thus  got  two  out  of  ac- 
tion, including  Rice.  He  was  a  great  fighter,  and 
I  was  surprised  he  threw  up  the  sponge  so  soon ; 
but  after  a  regular  battering  and  blinding,  he  said 
he'd  "  got  it  in  the  neck,"  and  fell  and  was  put  out 
with  one  eye  bunged.  Travers  minor  also  fell, 
rather  to  my  regret ;  and  what  struck  me  was  that, 
considering  all  their  brag,  the  Fourth  were  not  such 
good  plucked  ones  when  it  came  to  the  business  of 
real  war,  as  we  were.  It  made  a  difference  finish- 
ing off  Eice,  for  he  had  fought  well,  and  his  fire 
was  very  accurate,  as  several  of  us  knew  to  our 
cost.  I  felt  now  that  if  we  could  concentrate  on 
Pegram  and  Blades,  who  were  firing  magnificently, 
the  battle  would  be  practically  over.  But  Blades, 
owing  to  his  great  powers,  could  do  execution  and 
still  keep  out  of  range.  He  was,  in  fact,  their 
seventeen-inch  gun,  you  might  say;  and  though 
Williams  on  our  side  could  throw  further,  he 
proved  in  action  rather  feeble  and  not  a  born  fighter 
by  any  means.  As  for  Pegram,  he  always  seemed 
to  be  behind  somebody  else,  which,  knowing  his 


20  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

character,  you  would  have  expected.  At  last,  how- 
ever, he  led  a  storming  party  to  the  slope,  and, 
leaving  the  bulk  of  my  forces  to  guard  the  front, 
I  led  seven  to  stem  his  attack.  For  the  first  time 
since  the  beginning  of  the  battle,  it  was  hand-to- 
hand;  but  we  had  the  advantage  of  position,  and 
were  never  in  real  danger.  I  had  the  great  satis- 
faction of  hurling  Pegram  over  the  slope  into  his 
own  lines,  and  he  fell  on  his  shoulder  and  went 
down  and  out.  He  was  led  away  holding  his  el- 
bow and  also  limping;  but  his  loss  did  not  knock 
the  fight  out  of  the  Fourth,  though  in  the  same 
charge  they  lost  Preston  and  we  nearly  lost  Bassett. 
But  he  got  his  second  wind  and  was  saved  to  us, 
though  only  for  a  time,  for  Blades,  who  had  a  pri- 
vate hate  of  Bassett,  came  close  and  scorned  the  fire, 
and  got  three  hard  ones  in  on  Bassett'  from  three 
yards ;  and  Fortescue  had  to  say  Bassett  was  done. 
Blades,  however,  was  also  done,  and  there  was  a 
brief  armistice  while  they  were  taken  away. 

We  now  suddenly  concentrated  on  Mitchell,  who 
was  tiring  and  had  got  into  range.  I  think  he 
was  fed  up  with  the  battle,  for,  after  a  feeble  re- 
turn, he  went  down  when  about  ten  well-directed 
snowballs  took  him  simultaneously  on  the  face  and 
chest,  and  then  he  chucked  it  and  went  to  the  am- 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  SAND-PIT         21 

bulance.  At  the  same  moment  one  of  their  chaps, 
called  Sutherland,  did  for  Norris.  Norris  had  been 
getting  giddy  for  some  time,  and  he  also  feared 
that  he  was  frost-bitten,  and  when  Sutherland, 
creeping  right  under  him,  got  him  well  between  the 
eyes  with  a  hard  one,  he  was  fairly  blinded,  though 
very  sorry  to  Join  our  casualties.  I  had  a  touch 
of  cramp  at  the  same  moment,  but  it  passed  off. 

We'd  had  about  half  an  hour  now,  and  five  of  the 
ammunition  kids  were  out  of  action  with  frozen 
hands.  Then  we  got  one  more  of  the  enemy,  in  the 
shape  of  Sutherland,  and  their  moral  ought  to  have 
begun  to  get  bad ;  but  it  did  not.  Though  all  their 
leaders  were  now  down,  they  stuck  it  well,  while 
we  simply  held  them  with  ease,  and  repelled  two 
more  attempts  on  the  slope.  In  fact,  Williams 
wanted  to  go  down  and  make  a  sortie,  and  get  a 
few  more  out  of  action ;  but  this  I  would  not  per- 
mit for  another  five  minutes,  though  during  those 
exciting  moments  we  prepared  for  the  sortie,  and 
knocked  out  Abbott,  who,  much  to  my  surprise, 
had  fought  magnificently  and  covered  himself  with 
glory,  though  lame.  On  their  side  they  got  Mac- 
Andrew,  owing  to  an  accident.  In  fact,  he  slipped 
over  the  edge  of  the  sand-pit,  and  was  taken 
prisoner  before  he  could  get  back,  and  we  were 


22  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

sorry  to  lose  him,  not  so  much  for  his  own  sake, 
as  because  his  capture  bucked  up  the  Fourth  to 
make  fresh  efforts. 

And  then  came  the  critical  moment  of  the  battle, 
and  a  most  unexpected  thing  happened. 

With  victory  in  our  grasp,  and  a  decimated  op- 
position, a  frightful  surprise  occurred,  and  the  most 
unsporting  thing  was  done  by  the  Fourth  that  you 
could  find  in  the  gory  annals  of  war. 

It  was  really  all  over,  bar  victory,  and  we  were 
rearranging  ourselves  under  a  very  much  weak- 
ened fire,  when  we  heard  a  shout  in  the  woods  be- 
hind us,  and  the  shout  was  evidently  a  signal.  For 
the  whole  of  the  Fourth  still  in  action  made  one 
simultaneous  rush  for  the  slope,  and  of  course  we 
concentrated  to  fling  them  back.  But  then,  with  a 
wild  shriek,  there  suddenly  burst  upon  us  from 
the  rear  the  whole  of  their  casualties ! 

Mitchell  and  Rice  and  Pegram  came  first,  fol- 
lowed by  Travers  minor  and  Preston  and  Blades 
and  Sutherland  and  Abbott.  They  had  rested  and 
refreshed  themselves  with  two  lemons  and  other 
commissariat,  and  then,  taking  a  circuitous  track 
from  behind  their  ambulance,  had  got  exactly  be- 
hind us  through  the  wood.  And  now,  uttering  the 
yells  that  the  regular  Tommies  always  utter  when 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  SAND-PIT         23 

charging,  they  were  on  us  with  frightful  impetus, 
just  while  we  were  repelling  the  frontal  attack 
on  the  slope,  and  before  we  had  time  to  divide  to 
meet  them.  In  fact,  they  threw  the  whole  weight 
of  a  very  fine  charge  on  to  us  and  fairly  mowed 
us  down.  There  was  about  a  minute  of  real  fight- 
ing on  the  slope,  and  blood  flowed  freely.  We  got 
back  into  the  fort,  so  to  say;  but  the  advancing 
Fourth  came  back,  too,  and  the  casualties  took  us  in 
the  rear.  Then,  unfortunately  for  us,  I  was  hurled 
over  the  sand-pit,  and  three  chaps  —  all  defenders 
—  came  on  top  of  me,  and  half  the  snow-bank 
we  had  built  came  on  top  of  them.  With  the  snow- 
bank gone,  it  was  all  up.  I  tried  fearfully  hard  to 
get  back,  but  of  course  the  Fourth  had  guarded  the 
slope  when  they  took  it,  and  in  about  two  minutes 
from  the  time  I  fell  out  of  our  ruined  fortifications, 
all  was  over.  In  fact,  the  Fourth  was  now  on  the 
top  of  the  sand-pit  and  the  shattered  Fifth  and 
Sixth  were  down  below.  One  by  one  our  men  were 
flung,  or  fell,  over,  and  then  Fortescue  advanced 
from  cover  with  Brown  and  blew  his  whistle,  and 
the  battle  was  done. 

We  appealed;  but  Pegram  said  all  was  fair  in 
war,  and  Fortescue  upheld  him ;  and  in  a  moment 
of  rage  I  told  Pegram  and  Mitchell  they  had  be- 


24  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

haved  like  dirty  Germans,  and  Mitchell  said  they 
might,  or  they  might  not,  but  war  was  war,  anyway. 
And  he  also  said  that  the  first  thing  to  do  in  the 
case  of  a  battle  is  to  win  it.  And  if  you  win,  then 
what  the  losers  say  about  your  manners  and  tactics 
doesn't  matter  a  button,  because  the  rest  of  civilisa- 
tion will  instantly  come  over  to  your  side. 

And  Blades  said  the  Sixth  had  still  a  bit  to  learn 
about  strategy,  apparently,  and  Pegram  —  showing 
what  he  was  to  a  beaten  foe  —  offered  to  give  me 
some  tips! 

Mind  you,  I'm  not  pretending  we  were  not  beaten, 
because  we  were;  and  the  victors  fought  quite  as 
well  as  we  did;  but  I  shall  always  say  that,  with 
another  referee  than  Fortescue,  they  might  have 
lost  on  a  foul.  No  doubt  they  thought  it  was  mag- 
nificent, but  it  certainly  wasn't  war  —  at  least,  not 
what  I  call  war. 

We  challenged  them  to  a  return  battle  the  next 
Saturday,  and  Pegram  said,  as  a  rule,  you  don't 
have  return  battles  in  warfare,  but  that  he  should 
be  delighted  to  lick  us  again,  with  other  strategies, 
of  which  he  still  had  dozens  at  his  disposal.  Only 
Pegram  feared  the  snow  would  unfortunately  all 
be  gone  by  next  Saturday ;  and  the  wretched  chap 
was  quite  right  —  it  had. 


THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  SAND-PIT         25 

Mitchell,  by  the  way,  got  congestion  of  his  lungs 
two  days  after  the  battle,  showing  how  sickness  al- 
ways follows  warfare  sooner  or  later.  But  he  re- 
covered without  difficulty. 


THE  MYSTERY  OF  FORTESCUE 

My  name  is  Abbott,  and  I  came  to  Merivale  two 
years  ago.  I  have  got  one  leg  an  inch  and  three- 
quarters  shorter  than  the  other,  but  I  make  noth- 
ing of  it.  A  nurse  dropped  me  on  a  fender  when 
I  was  just  born,  owing  to  a  mouse  suddenly  running 
across  her  foot.  It  was  more  a  misfortune  than 
anything,  and  my  mother  forgave  her  freely.  When 
I  was  old  enough  I  also  forgave  her.  In  fact,  I  only 
mention  it  to  explain  why  I  am  not  going  into  the 
Army.  All  Abbotts  do  so,  and  it  will  be  almost  a 
record  my  going  into  something  else. 

Many  chaps  have  no  fighting  spirit,  and,  as  a 
rule,  it  is  not  strong  in  schoolmasters ;  yet  when  the 
call  came  for  men,  three  out  of  our  five  answered  it 
and  went.  Two,  who  were  well  up  in  the  Terriers, 
got  commissions,  and  the  other  enlisted,  so  we  were 
only  left  with  Brown,  who  can't  see  further  than  a 
pink-eyed  rat  and  isn't  five  foot  three  in  his  socks, 
though  in  his  high-heeled  boots  he  may  be,  and 
Fortescue. 

You  will  say  this  must  have  had  a  pretty  bright 

26 


THE  MYSTERY  OF  FORTESCUE    27 

side  for  us,  and,  at  first  sight,  no  doubt  it  looks 
hopeful.  In  fact,  we  took  a  very  cheerful  view  of 
it,  because  you  can  do  what  you  like  with  Brown, 
and  Fortescue  only  teaches  the  Fifth  and  Sixth. 

On  the  day  that  Hutchings  cleared  out  to  join 
the  Army,  and  we  were  only  left  with  Fortescue, 
Brown,  and  the  Doctor,  we  were  confronted  with 
serious  news.  In  fact,  after  chapel  on  that  day,  we 
heard,  much  to  our  anxiety,  that  old  Dunston  him- 
self was  going  to  fill  the  breach. 

Those  were  his  very  words.  He  talked  with  a 
sort  of  ghastly  funniness  and  used  military  terms. 

He  said  — 

"  Now  that  our  valued  and  honoured  friends, 
Mr.  Hutchings,  Mr.  Manwaring,  and  Mr.  Meadows 
have  answered  their  nation's  call,  with  a  loyalty  to 
King  and  Country  inevitable  in  men  who  know 
the  demands  as  well  as  the  privileges  of  Empire,  it 
behoves  us,  as  we  can  and  how  we  can,  to  fill  their 
places.  This,  then,  in  my  contribution  to  the  Great 
War.  I  shall  fight  in  no  foreign  trenches,  but 
labour  here,  sleeplessly  if  need  be,  and  undertake 
willingly,  proudly,  the  arduous  task  that  they  have 
left  behind.  I  shall  confront  no  cannon,  but  I 
shall  face  the  Lower  School.  Henceforth,  after 
that  amalgamation  of  class  and  class  which  will  be 


as  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

necessary,  you  may  count  upon  your  head  master 
to  answer  the  trumpet  call  and  fill  the  breach.  But 
I  do  not  disguise  from  myself  that  such  labours 
must  prove  no  sinecure,  and  I  trust  the  least,  as 
well  as  the  greatest,  to  do  their  part  and  aid  me 
with  good  sense  and  intelligence." 

Well,  there  it  was ;  and  we  saw  in  a  moment  that 
you  can't  escape  the  horrors  of  war,  even  though 
you  are  on  an  island  with  the  Grand  Fleet  between 
you  and  the  foe. 

When  it  came  to  the  point,  the  Doctor  was  fairly 
friendly,  but  there  was  always  something  about  him 
that  was  awful  and  solemn  and  very  depressing  to 
the  mind.  You  could  crib  easily  enough  with  him, 
for  he  had  a  much  more  trustful  disposition  than 
Hutchings,  or  Brown,  or  Fortescue,  and  was  also 
short-sighted  at  near  range ;  but  the  general  feeling 
with  the  Doctor  was  a  sense  of  weariness  and  un- 
doubted relief  when  it  was  over.  It  was  as  near 
like  being  in  church  as  anything  could  be. 

Beginning  at  the  beginning  of  subjects  bored 
him.  In  fact,  he  often  found,  when  he  went  back 
to  the  very  start  of  a  lesson,  he'd  forgotten  it  him- 
self, moving  for  so  many  years  on  only  the  higher 
walks  of  learning;  and  then,  finding  that  he  had 
forgotten  some  footling  trifle  on  the  first  page  of  a 


THE  MYSTERY  OF  FORTESCUE  29 

primer,  he  became  abstracted  and  lost  heart  about 
it,  and  seemed  more  inclined  to  think  than  to 
talk. 

Another  very  curious  habit  he  had  was  to  start 
on  one  thing  —  say  Latin  —  and  then  drift  off  into 
something  else  —  say  geography.  Or  he  might  be- 
gin with  algebra  and  then  something  would  remind 
him  of  the  procession  of  the  equinoxes,  or  the  nebula 
in  Orion,  and  he  would  soar  from  earth  and  wan- 
der among  the  heavenly  bodies  until  the  class  was 
over.  And  if  he  happened  to  be  very  much  inter- 
ested himself,  he  wouldn't  let  it  be  over ;  and  then 
we  had  to  sit  on  hearing  the  Doctor  maundering 
about  double  stars,  or  comets  perhaps,  while  every- 
body else  was  in  the  playground. 

I  think  he  got  rather  sick  of  the  Lower  School 
after  about  a  month  of  it,  and  Fortescue  took  over 
a  good  many  of  the  classes  in  his  normal  style, 
which  was  more  business-like  than  the  Doctor  and 
more  punctual  in  its  working.  Fortescue  was  cold 
and  hadn't  much  use  for  us  in  school  or  out,  but 
he  was  just,  and  we  liked  him  pretty  well  until  the 
mystery  began.  Then  we  gradually  got  to  dislike 
him,  and  then  despise  him,  and  then  hate  him. 

He  was  rather  out  of  the  common  in  a  way,  be- 
ing an  Honourable  and  related  to  the  famous  fam- 


30  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

ily  of  Fortescue,  which  has  shone  a  good  deal  in  his- 
tory off  and  on.  And,  of  course,  when  the  war 
broke  out,  we  naturally  expected  that  the  Honour- 
able Howard  Fortescue  would  seize  the  opportu- 
nity to  shine  also,  which  he  could  not  do  as  an  un- 
dermaster  at  Merivale.  He  was  a  big,  fine  man,  six 
feet  high,  with  a  red  complexion  and  a  Roman  nose. 
Certainly,  he  did  not  play  games,  but  he  was  all 
right  in  other  ways,  and  had  been  a  lawn-tennis 
player  of  the  first-class  in  past  times  at  Oxford, 
and,  in  fact,  got  his  half-blue  for  playing  at  that 
sport  against  Cambridge. 

So  it  seemed  to  us  pretty  low  down  that  he  didn't 
join  Kitchener's  Army.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  he 
didn't  even  try  to.  He  was  a  very  sublime  sort  of 
man  and  not  what  you  might  call  friendly  to  us, 
yet  if  anybody  appealed  to  him  in  any  sort  of  way, 
he  generally  thawed  a  bit  and  responded  in  quite 
a  kind  manner. 

We  argued  a  good  deal  about  him,  and  Travers 
major  said  it  was  natural  pride,  because,  being  of 
the  family  of  Fortescue,  he  knew  there  was  a  gulf 
fixed  between  him  and  us.  And  Travers  did  not 
blame  him,  and  more  did  I,  or  Briggs.  But  Rice, 
who  is  Irish,  and  who  had  got  sent  up  on  the  re- 
port of  Fortescue  for  saying,  as  he  thought,  some- 


THE  MYSTERY  OF  FORTESCUE  31 

thing  disrespectful  about  the  British  Army,  hated 
Fortescue  with  a  deadly  hatred.  Which  was  natu- 
ral, because  Fortescue  had  misunderstood,  and  Rice 
had  really  said  nothing  against  the  Army,  but 
against  Protestants,  which,  being  a  Roman  Catholic 
himself,  was  merely  his  point  of  view  and  no  busi- 
ness of  Fortescue's. 

And  when  Fortescue  wouldn't  become  a  soldier. 
Rice  left  no  stone  unturned,  as  they  say,  to  worry 
him  about  it.  At  that  time  Milly  Dunston,  the 
Doctor's  youngest  daughter,  had  just  come  back 
from  a  school  where  she  had  been  finished,  and 
Rice's  sister  was  at  the  same  school,  so  she  took 
notice  of  Rice.  And  it  soon  turned  out  that  Milly 
Dunston  also  hated  Fortescue.  I  believe  he  had 
snubbed  her  in  some  way  over  English  literature, 
at  which  Fortescue  was  said  to  be  a  flyer,  but  Milly 
Dunston  was  not.  She  had,  in  fact,  praised  a  novel 
to  him,  and  he  had  laughed  and  told  her  it  was  quite 
worthless,  and  advised  her  to  read  some  novels  by 
people  she  had  never  heard  of.  And  then  he  had 
slighted  the  school  where  she  had  finished,  and  so, 
when  Rice  explained  that  Fortescue  was  a  coward 
and  preferred  the  comparative  comfort  of  Merivale 
to  the  manly  business  of  going  to  Salisbury  Plain 
and  living  in  mud  and  becoming  useful  to  the  Em- 


32  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

pire,  Milly  Dunston  quite  agreed  with  Rice,  and 
said  something  ought  to  be  done  about  it. 

We  helped  because  we  thought  the  same.  In 
fact,  everybody  seemed  to  be  of  one  opinion,  and 
little  by  little  Fortescue  began  to  see  signs  of  great 
unpopularity  growing  up  against  him. 

At  first  he  ignored  these  signs,  being  evidently 
unprepared  to  take  what  you  might  call  a  delicate 
sort  of  hint.  For  instance,  he  smoked  a  pipe  and 
kept  a  Japanese  vase  on  the  mantelpiece  of  his 
study  full  of  black  crows'  feathers,  which  he  was  in 
the  habit  of  picking  up  on  Merivale  Heath,  where 
he  often  went  for  lonely  walks.  With  these 
feathers  he  cleaned  out  the  stem  of  his  pipe. 

Well,  Milly  Dunston  bought  a  white  fowl  for  the 
Doctor's  dinner,  and  told  the  man  at  the  shop  to 
send  it  without  plucking  the  feathers  off.  Which 
he  did  do,  and  she  got  them  and  gave  them  to  Rice, 
who  dexterously  took  away  Fortescue's  black 
feathers  and  substituted  the  white  ones.  But  For- 
tescue went  on  just  as  though  he  hadn't  noticed  it, 
and  when  Saunders  was  with  Fortescue,  having 
his  special  coaching  lesson  for  a  Civil  Service 
exam.,  he  said  that  Fortescue  took  a  white  feather 
and  cleaned  his  pipe  with  it  as  though  quite  indif- 
ferent to  the  colour. 


THE  MYSTERY  OF  FORTESCUE  33 

Then  Milly  Diinston  got  a  ball  of  knitting  wool 
and  four  knitting  needles,  for  all  of  which  she  paid 
herself,  and  Rice  once  more  did  the  necessary  strat- 
egy and  arranged  them  on  Fortescue's  desk,  where 
his  eyes  would  fall  upon  them  on  returning  to  his 
study.  But  they  merely  disappeared,  and  For- 
tescue  gave  no  sign. 

Then  Travers  major  started  a  very  interesting 
theory  on  the  subject,  and  he  said  there  must  be 
some  reason  far  deeper  than  mere  cowardice  behind 
the  mystery  of  Fortescue.  He  said  that  it  was  im- 
possible for  a  Fortescue  to  be  a  coward  in  the  com- 
mon or  garden  sense  of  funking  danger,  but  he  ad- 
mitted that  he  might  be  a  coward  in  some  other 
way,  such  as  not  liking  discipline,  or  living  in  a 
tent,  or  wearing  uncomfortable  clothes,  or  getting 
up  early  to  the  sound  of  a  bugle.  And  Briggs  said 
that  he  thought  perhaps  Fortescue  was  keeping  a 
widowed  mother  and  sisters,  or  an  old  aunt,  or  some 
such  person  by  his  exertions  at  Merivale,  in  which 
case,  of  course,  he  couldn't  go.  But  Rice  didn't 
see  why  not,  even  if  it  was  so ;  and  more  did  I,  be- 
cause the  Government  gives  full  compensation  for 
women  relations  in  general ;  but  Briggs  said  I  had 
got  it  all  wrong,  and  that  if  Fortescue  had  an  aunt, 
she  wouldn't  gain  a  penny  by  his  going  to  the  war, 


34  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

however  old  and  poor  she  was.  In  fact,  he  believed 
that  only  a  wife  who  was  going  to  have  a  baby  got 
anything  at  all,  owing  to  the  great  need  for  keeping 
up  the  race. 

Then  Rice  said  that  it  didn't  make  any  difference 
to  his  deadly  feeling  against  Fortescue,  and  he  also 
said  that  he  was  going  on  rubbing  it  into  Fortescue, 
and  leaving  no  stone  unturned  to  make  his  life  a 
burden  to  him  until  he  enlisted ;  and  Travers  major 
said  that  Rice  was  feeling  the  instinct  of  pure  re- 
venge, and  Rice  said  he  might  be,  but  that  was  what 
he  intended  to  do.  Anyway,  he  was  sure  the  War 
Office  and  Admiralty  didn't  care  a  button  about 
aunts. 

Then  we  divided  into  two  factions  on  the  subject 
of  Fortescue,  and  one  faction  decided  to  leave  him 
to  his  conscience  and  mind  its  own  business,  which 
wasn't  driving  Fortescue  to  war;  while  the  other 
side  took  the  opposite  course,  and  decided  to  work 
at  Fortescue  with  the  utmost  ingenuity  until  in 
sheer  despair  he  was  driven  to  do  his  duty.  And 
Briggs  and  Travers  major  and  Travers  minor  and 
Saunders  and  Hopwood  abandoned  the  pursuit,  so 
to  say ;  while  I  and  Rice  and  a  chap  called  Mitchell, 
all  ably  assisted  by  Milly  Dunston,  continued  in 


THE  MYSTERY  OF  FORTESCUE  35 

our  great  attempt  to  wake  Fortescue  to  the  call  of 
his  country  and  storm  his  lines,  as  Rice  said. 

As  for  Mitchell,  he  came  into  it  rather  curiously, 
and  it  shows  how  an  utter  accident  will  sometimes 
reveal  anybody  in  their  true  colours,  and  surprise 
other  people,  who  thought  they  knew  them  and  yet 
didn't.  Mitchell  was  a  mere  rabbit  in  character 
and  nothing  in  learning.  And,  in  fact,  he  only  had 
one  feature  besides  his  nose,  and  that  was  his  love 
for  money.  Money,  you  might  say,  was  his  god, 
and  his  financial  operations  in  the  matter  of  loans 
to  the  kids  were  a  study  in  themselves.  But  over 
Fortescue  he  came  out  in  a  most  unexpected  man- 
ner, and  much  to  our  surprise,  made  up  a  bit  of 
poetry  about  him !  Which  shows  nothing  happens 
but  the  unexpected,  and  nobody  was  more  aston- 
ished in  a  sort  of  way  than  Mitchell  himself,  be- 
cause he  never  knew  he  could  do  it. 

How  to  use  the  poem  to  the  best  purpose  was  a 
question  that  Milly  solved.  She  typed  it  by  night 
on  her  own  typewriter,  and  then  directed  Rice,  at 
the  first  opportunity,  to  put  it  on  Fortescue's  desk 
when  his  study  was  empty.  And  he  did  so,  and  this 
is  what  Fortescue  found  awaiting  him  when  he 
returned : 


m  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

"  You  ask  us  lots  of  questions 

And  we  answer  if  we  can, 
And  now  we'll  jolly  well  ask  you  one. 

You  call  yourself  a  man, 
Then  why  on  earth  don't  you  enlist 

And  try  to  do  your  share 
Where  the  '  Black  Marias '  bellow 

And  the  shrapnel's  in  the  air? 
And  if  you  will  not  tell  us  why, 

Then  we'll  tell  you  instead. 
It's  just  because  you  funk  it 

And  would  hate  to  be  shot  dead. 
In  other  words,  in  fact  in  one. 

Most  Honourable  Howard, 
Though  of  the  race  of  Fortescue, 

You  are  a  bally  coward !  " 

We  didn't  much  envy  Fortescue  his  feelings  when 
he  read  these  stirring  lines,  and  in  fact,  I,  in  my 
hopefulness,  believed  they  would  actually  win  our 
object  and  start  Fortescue  on  the  path  of  duty  and 
rouse  him  from  his  lethargical  attitude  to  the  war ; 
but,  strange  to  say,  they  went  off  him  like  water 
off  a  duck's  back.  Not  a  muscle  moved,  so  to 
speak,  or  if  it  did  nobody  saw  it  do  so.  He  went  on 
his  way  for  all  the  world  as  if  civilisation  was  not 
In  its  death  throes.  And  then  Rice  —  to  show  you 
what  Rice  still  felt  about  it  — offered  Mitchell  a 
week's  pocket-money  if  he  would  write  yet  another 
poem  of  even  a  more  fiery  and  stinging  character. 
And  Mitchell  gladly  agreed,  and  took  enormous 
trouble  and  burnt  the  midnight  oil,  as  the  saying 


THE  MYSTERY  OF  FORTESCUE  37 

is,  and  produced  certainly  a  poem  full  of  rhymes 
and  great  abuse  of  Fortescue,  yet  not  nearly  such 
a  fine  poem  as  the  first.  And  Rice  said  it  wasn't 
up  to  the  mark  and  wouldn't  pay  for  it,  and 
Mitchell  said  it  was  a  contract  and  written  on  com- 
mission and  must  be  paid  for  by  law.  But  Rice 
knew  no  law  and  he  showed  the  poem  to  Travers 
major,  who  instantly  tore  it  up  and  kicked  Mitchell 
next  time  he  met  him  and  told  him  he  was  a  dirty 
little  cad. 

So  Mitchell  cooled  off  to  Rice,  and,  in  fact,  his 
next  poem  was  actually  about  Rice  —  not  written 
to  order,  but  for  pure  hate  of  Rice  —  and  it  was  un- 
doubtedly a  bitter  and  powerful  poem;  but  Rice, 
being  far  stronger  than  Mitchell,  made  him  eat  it 
and  swallow  it  in  front  of  his  class,  though  it  was 
written  in  red  ink.  And  Mitchell  said  if  he  died. 
Rice  would  be  hung.  But  he  felt  no  ill  effects, 
though  he  rather  hoped  he  would. 

At  this  season,  however,  a  far  greater  and  more 
splendid  poem  than  any  Mitchell  could  do  had  ap- 
peared in  England.  In  fact,  it  was  set  to  music 
and  England  rang  with  it  —  also  Ireland.  At 
least,  so  Rice  said,  because  his  mother  had  told 
him  so  in  a  letter.  There  was  a  special  mention 
of  Ireland  in  it,  and  Rice's  mother  told  him  that  it 


■-^  ''.53 


38  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

had  made  more  recruits  in  Ireland  than  Mr.  Red- 
mond and  Sir  Edward  Carson  put  together. 

Rice  never  does  anything  by  halves,  and  he  ac- 
tually learnt  the  poem  by  heart,  and  also  found 
out  the  tune  somehow  and  sang  it  when  possible. 
Once,  in  fact,  he  woke  up  in  the  night  singing  it 
from  force  of  habit,  as  the  saying  is,  and  his  pre- 
fect, who  happened  to  be  Mactaggert,  said  there 
was  a  time  for  everything,  and  threatened  to  re- 
port Rice  if  he  did  it  again. 

I  asked  Rice  why  he  had  made  such  a  great  effort 
and  learnt  anything  he  wasn't  obliged  to  learn,  and 
he  said,  firstly,  because  it  was  the  grandest  poem 
he  had  ever  heard,  and,  secondly,  because  he  had  a 
great  idea  some  day  to  sing  it  to  Fortescue,  as  it 
applied  specially  to  him  by  dwelling  on  the  fear- 
fulness  of  hanging  back  when  the  Empire  cried  out 
for  you. 

The  poem  said  the  Empire  was  calling  to  every 
one  of  her  sons  of  low  and  high  degree,  and  so,  of 
course,  it  was  also  calling  to  Fortescue;  and  Rice 
thought  that  as  it  was  pretty  certain  Fortescue 
wouldn't  read  it,  and,  no  doubt,  fought  shy  of 
patriotic  poetry  in  general  just  now,  he  meant  to 
wait  for  some  happy  opportunity  when  Fortescue 


THE  MYSTERY  OF  FORTESCUE    39 

was  not  iu  a  position  to  get  out  of  earshot  and  sing 
it  to  him. 

But  the  opportunity  did  not  come,  so  Rice 
adopted  the  former  plan  of  leaving  the  poem  in 
Fortescue's  room.  He  had  plenty  of  printed  copies 
of  the  words,  because  the  poem,  after  first  appear- 
ing in  a  London  newspaper  of  great  renown,  had 
been  copied,  at  the  special  wish  of  the  author,  into 
hundreds  and  thousands  of  other  papers;  and  to 
show  you  the  tremendous  liking  people  had  for  it, 
even  the  Merivale  Weekly  Trumpet  printed  it  and 
Milly  Dunston  found  it  there. 

She,  by  the  way,  had  another  pretty  bitter  cut  at 
Fortescue,  which  cost  more  money,  and  she  told 
Rice  she  had  paid  five  shillings  and  sixpence  for 
her  great  insult.  In  fact,  she  sent  Fortescue  a 
shawl  and  a  cap,  such  as  is  worn  by  aged  women, 
with  red,  white,  and  blue  ribbons  in  it.  Which,  of 
course,  meant  that  Fortescue  was  an  old  woman 
himself.  It  was  frightfully  deadly  if  you  under- 
stood it,  and  Rice  said  that  only  a  girl  could  have 
thought  of  such  a  cruel  thing. 

The  parcel  was  sent  by  post,  but  once  more  we 
were  doomed  to  disappointment,  as  they  say,  for 
nothing  came  of  it  excej)t  slight  advantage  to  the 


40  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

matron  in  Fortescue's  house.  In  fact,  he  gave  her 
the  five  shilling  shawl,  but  the  cap  we  never  saw 
again,  and  doubtless  it  was  burnt  to  a  cinder  in 
Fortescue's  fire. 

Then  Rice  tried  the  patriotic  poem,  and  so  as 
there  should  be  no  mistake  he  covered  the  back  of 
it  with  paste,  and  in  this  manner  fastened  it  very 
firmly  to  the  looking-glass,  just  behind  the  spot 
where  Fortescue  kept  his  pipes  on  the  mantelpiece. 

We  didn't  hope  much  from  it,  and  expected  he 
would  merely  scrape  it  off  and  take  it  lying  down 
in  his  usual  cowardly  manner.  But  imagine  our 
immense  surprise  when  we  found  he  liad  sneaked 
to  the  Doctor!  And  even  that  was  nothing  com- 
pared to  the  extraordinary  confession  that  he  had 
made  to  the  Doctor.  And  it  all  came  out,  and,  as 
Mitchell  said,  a  bolt  from  the  blue  fell  on  him  and 
me  and  Rice. 

After  stating  the  facts  of  the  case,  which  were 
that  Mr.  Fortescue  had  been  from  the  beginning  of 
the  term  subject  to  a  great  deal  of  annoyance  from 
boys,  who  laboured  under  the  offensive  delusion 
that  he  ought  to  go  to  the  Front,  the  Doctor  said  — 

"  It  is  my  honoured  friend,  Mr.  Fortescue's  wish 
that  I  inform  you  of  the  circumstances  which  pre- 
vent an  action  which  he  would  have  been  the  first 


THE  MYSTERY  OF  FORTESCUE  41 

to  take  did  his  physical  welfare  permit  of  it.  But 
unhappily  he  suffers  from  an  enlarged  aorta  and  it 
is  impossible  for  him  to  take  his  place  in  our  line  of 
defences,  though  that  impossibility  has  caused  him 
the  sorrow  of  his  life.  It  happens,  however,  that 
Nature  has  blessed  Mr.  Fortescue  with  abundant 
gifts  while  denying  him  his  health,  and  in  the  pages 
of  that  w^ork  of  reference  known  as  '  Who's  Who  ' — 
pages  that  I  fear  few  among  you  will  ever  adorn  — 
may  be  found  the  distinguished  name  of  the  Hon- 
ourable Howard  Fortescue  in  connection  with  nota- 
ble achievements.  For  Mr.  Fortescue  is  a  votary 
of  the  Muses.  Already  he  has  two  volumes  of  verse 
to  his  credit  and  three  works  of  fiction ;  while  in  a 
subsequent  edition  of  the  volume,  it  will  doubtless 
be  recorded  that  he  was  the  author  of  a  certain  ad- 
mirable poem  which  has  recently  stirred  the  United 
Kingdom  to  its  depths  and  sent  more  young  men 
to  the  enlisting  stations  than  any  other  inspiration 
of  the  time.  But  it  was,  it  seems,  left  for  one  of 
my  pupils  to  combine  idiocy  with  insolence  and 
aflQx  a  copy  of  his  own  immortal  composition  to 
Mr.  Fortescue's  looking-glass !  This  was  positively 
the  last  straw,  and  my  esteemed  colleague  who,  up 
to  the  present  time  has  allowed  his  sense  of  humour 
to  ignore  your  insufferable  impertinences,  felt  that 


42  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

it  was  bad  for  yourselves  to  proceed  further  upon 
so  perilous  a  path.  Very  rightly,  therefore,  he 
called  my  attention  to  a  persecution  I  should  have 
thought  impossible  within  these  walls.  He  has  no 
desire  to  give  me  the  names  of  the  culprits,  and  it 
is  well  for  them  that  he  has  not ;  but  having  placed 
the  whole  circumstances  in  my  hands,  I  cannot  per- 
mit the  outrage  to  pass  without  recording  my  ab- 
horrence and  shame.  I  may  further  remind  you 
that  Wednesday  next  is  our  half-term  whole  holi- 
day, and  if  before  that  date  no  private  and  abject 
apology  is  committed  to  the  hands  of  Mr.  Fortescue 
by  those  who  have  disgraced  themselves  and  put 
this  affront  upon  him  —  if  that  is  not  done,  and  if 
I  do  not  hear  from  him  that  he  is  thoroughly  satis- 
fied with  the  nature  of  that  expression  of  regret, 
then  there  will  be  no  half-term  whole  holiday  and 
righteous  and  guilty  alike  will  suffer." 

Needless  to  say  this  tremendous  speech  made  a 
very  great  impression  on  me  and  Rice  and  Mitchell. 
Milly  Dunston  did  not  hear  it,  but  it  made  a  great 
impression  on  her  too,  when  she  heard  the  facts, 
and  we  felt,  in  a  way,  that  she  was  a  good  deal  to 
blame,  because  she  could  easily  have  looked  up 
"Who's  Who,"  being  free  of  the  Doctor's  library, 
which  we  were  not. 


THE  MYSTERY  OF  FORTESCUE  43 

Of  course,  there  was  no  difficulty  about  the  apol- 
ogy, which  I  wrote  with  help  from  Mitchell;  but, 
showing  what  girls  are,  though  she  had  invented 
most  of  the  things  we  did  to  Fortescue,  she  calmly 
refused  to  sign  the  apology  and  said  she  should 
apologise  personally  to  him.  No  doubt  she  didn't, 
and  Rice  chucked  her  afterwards. 

Rice  was  the  most  cut  up.  He  said  he  should 
never  feel  the  same  again  after  being  such  a  simple 
beast,  and  he  changed  over  from  hating  Fortescue 
to  thinking  him  the  most  wonderful  and  splendid 
man  in  the  world,  and  far  the  best  poet  after 
Shakespeare.  And  to  show  how  frightfully  Rice 
feels  things  and  the  rash  way  he  goes  on,  I  can 
only  tell  you  that  when  we  signed  the  apology,  he 
cut  himself  on  his  arm,  just  above  the  wrist,  and 
got  two  drops  of  blood  and  signed  with  them.  And 
after  his  name  he  wrote  the  grim  words  "  his 
blood,"  so  that  Fortescue  shouldn't  think  it  was 
merely  red  ink. 

The  apology  went  like  this : 

We,  the  undersigned  members  of  the  Lower  Fourth  form  of 
Merivale  beg  to  express  our  great  regret  for  having  tried  to 
make  the  Honourable  Howard  Fortescue  go  to  the  Front.  We 
freely  confess  we  ought  not  to  have  done  so  and  that  we  were 
much  deluded.  We  utterly  did  not  know  that  he  had  got  an 
aorta,  and  we  are  very  sorry  that  he  has,  and  we  hope  that 
he  will  soon  recover  from  it.    And  we  beg  to  say  that  we 


44  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

think  his  poem  the  best  poem  we  have  ever  read  and  also 
better  than  Virgil.  And  we  hope  that  he  will  overlook  it  on 
this  occasion  and  are  willing  to  do  anything  he  may  decide 
upon  to  show  the  extent  of  our  great  regret. 

(Signed)  Rupebt  Mitchell, 

Patrick  Rice  (his  blood), 
Abthue  Abbott. 

But  nothing  came  of  it.  The  Honourable  For- 
tescue  went  on  his  way  quite  unmoved  and  treated 
us  just  as  usual,  without  any  sign  of  forgiveness 
or  otherwise.  And  whether  he  ever  reported  our 
names  to  Dunston  or  not,  we  never  knew.  But  I 
don't  think  he  did.  At  any  rate,  he  must  have  said 
the  apology  was  enough;  which  it  certainly  was. 
And  the  end  justified  the  means,  as  they  say,  be- 
cause the  whole  holiday  at  half-term  passed  off  as 
usual. 


THE  COUNTRYMAN  OF  KANT 

Dr.  Dunston  had  a  way  of  introducing  a  new  chap 
to  the  school  after  prayers.  The  natural  instinct 
of  a  new  chap,  of  course,  is  to  slide  in  quietly  and 
slowly  settle  down,  first  in  his  class  and  then  in  the 
school ;  but  old  Dunston  doesn't  allow  this.  When 
a  new  boy  turns  up,  he  jaws  over  him,  and  prophe- 
sies about  him,  and  says  we  shall  all  like  him,  and 
so  on;  and  if  the  new  chap's  father  is  anybody, 
which  he  sometimes  happens  to  be,  then  Dunston 
lets  us  know  it.  The  result  is  that  he  generally 
puts  everybody  off  a  new  chap  from  the  first;  but 
the  Fifth  and  Sixth  allow  for  this.  As  Travers 
major  pointed  out,  it's  a  rum  instinct  of  human 
nature  to  hate  anything  you  are  ordered  to  like, 
and  to  scoff  at  anything  you  are  ordered  to  admire ; 
so,  thanks  to  Travers,  who  is  frightfully  clever  in 
his  way,  and,  in  fact,  going  to  Woolwich  next  term, 
we  always  allowed  for  the  Doctor's  great  hope 
about  a  new  boy,  and  didn't  let  it  put  us  off  him. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  Dunston  often  withdrew  the 
praise  afterwards,  and  we  noticed,  for  some  queer 

45 


46  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

reason,  that  if  a  boy  had  a  celebrated  father,  he  al- 
ways turned  out  to  be  the  sort  that  Dunston  hated 
most;  and  often  and  often,  when  he  had  to  rag  or 
flog  that  sort  of  boy,  the  Doctor  fairly  wept  to 
think  what  the  boy's  celebrated  father  would  say 
if  he  could  see  him  now. 

When  Jacob  Wundt  came  to  Merivale,  Dunston 
just  went  the  limit  about  him;  and  it  was  all  the 
more  footling  because  Wundt  grinned,  and  evi- 
dently highly  approved  of  what  was  said  about  him. 
He  was  the  first  German  the  Doctor  had  ever  had 
for  a  pupil,  I  believe  —  anyway,  the  first  in  living 
memory  —  so,  perhaps,  naturally  he  got  a  bit 
above  himself  about  it ;  and  Wundt  got  a  bit  above 
himself,  too. 

"  In  Jacob  Wundt  we  embrace  one  from  the  Ham- 
let among  nations,"  began  Dr.  Dunston.  "  In 
Jacob  Wundt  we  welcome  the  countryman  of  Kant 
and  Schiller,  the  contemporary  of  Eucken  and  Har- 
nack !  Moreover,  Colonel  von  Wundt,  his  esteemed 
parent,  occupies  a  position  of  some  importance  in 
the  Fatherland,  and  has  done  no  small  part  to  per- 
fect the  magnificent  army  that  great  nation  is 
known  to  possess." 

Well,  we  looked  at  Jacob  Wundt,  and  saw  one  of 
the  short,  fat  sort,  with  puddingy  limbs  and  yellow- 


THE  COUNTRYMAN  OF  KANT  4.7 

ish  hair  close-cropped,  and  a  fighting  sort  of  head. 
He  looked  straight  at  you,  but  he  never  looked  at 
anybody  as  though  he  liked  them,  and  we  jolly  soon 
found  he  didn't. 

As  to  Dr.  Dunston's  German  heroes,  we  only 
knew  one  name,  and  that  was  Schiller;  but  as  the 
Fifth  and  Sixth  happened  to  be  swotting  "  The  Rob- 
bers "  for  an  exam.,  and  as  "  The  Robbers  "  hap- 
pens to  be  a  ripping  good  thing  in  its  way,  we  were 
not  disinclined  to  be  friendly  to  Wundt,  as  far  as 
the  Fifth  and  Sixth  can  be  friendly  to  a  new  boy 
low  in  the  school. 

We  soon  found  that  Wundt  was  very  un-English 
in  his  ideas,  also  in  his  manners  and  customs.  He 
could  talk  English  well  enough  to  explain  what  he 
meant,  and  we  soon  found  that  he  thought  a  jolly 
sight  too  well  of  Germany  and  a  jolly  sight  too 
badly  of  England.  At  first  we  thought  he  had  been 
sent  to  Merivale  to  make  him  larger-minded,  so  that 
he  could  go  back  and  make  other  Germans  more 
larger-minded,  too.  But  he  said  it  was  nothing  of 
the  kind.  He  hadn't  come  to  England  to  learn  our 
ways  —  which  were  beastly,  in  his  opinion  —  but 
to  get  perfect  in  our  language,  which  might  be  use- 
ful to  him  when  he  became  a  soldier. 

He  was  very  peculiar,  and  did  things  I  never 


48  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

knew  a  boy  do  before.  And  the  most  remarkable 
thing  he  did  was  always  to  be  looking  on  ahead  to 
when  he  was  grown  up.  Of  course,  everybody 
knows  they're  going  to  grow  up,  and  some  chaps  are 
even  keen  about  it  in  a  sort  of  way,  but  very  few 
worry  about  it  like  Wundt  did.  I  said  to  him 
once  — 

"  What  the  dickens  are  you  always  wanting  time 
to  pass  for,  so  that  you  may  be  grown  up?  I  can 
tell  you  it  isn't  all  beer  and  skittles  being  a  man. 
At  any  rate,  I've  often  heard  my  father  say  he 
wishes  he  was  young  again." 

"  He  may,"  answered  Wundt.  "  You've  told  me 
your  father  was  an  '  International '  and  a  '  Blue,' 
and  no  doubt  he'd  like  to  excel  at  football  again. 
But  I  despise  games,  and  I've  got  very  good  reasons 
for  wanting  to  grow  up,  which  are  private." 

Of  course,  he  didn't  put  it  in  such  good  English 
as  that,  but  that  was  the  sense  of  it. 

He  wasn't  what  you  call  a  success  generally,  for 
he  didn't  like  work,  except  history;  and  he  hated 
our  history,  and  there  wasn't  much  doing  at  Meri- 
vale  in  the  matter  of  German  history.  But  he  took 
to  English  well,  and  would  always  talk  it  if  he 
could  get  anybody  to  listen,  which  wasn't  often. 
He  said  it  was  all  rot  about  English  being  a  diffi- 


THE  COUNTRYMAN  OF  KANT  49 

cult  language.  He  thought  it  easy  and  feeble  at 
best.  All  his  people  could  speak  it  —  in  fact, 
everybody  in  Germany  could,  when  it  suited  them 
to  do  so. 

As  for  games,  he  had  no  use  for  them;  but  he 
was  sporting  in  his  own  way.  His  favourite  sport 
consisted  in  going  out  of  bounds;  and  he  showed 
very  decent  strategy  in  doing  so,  and  gave  even 
Norris  and  Booth  a  tip  or  two.  Norris  and  Booth 
had  made  a  fair  art  of  trespassing  in  private  game 
preserves,  at  the  Manor  House  and  other  such 
places  round  about  Merivale.  In  fact,  game  pre- 
serves were  just  common  or  garden  Sunday  walks 
to  them.  But  they  had  been  caught  by  a  game- 
keeper once  and  both  flogged;  and  Wundt  showed 
them  how  a  reverse  like  that  need  never  have  hap- 
pened. He  could  turn  his  coat  inside  out,  and  do 
other  things  of  that  sort,  which  were  very  deceptive 
even  to  the  trained  gamekeeper  eye ;  and,  finding  a 
scarecrow  in  a  turnip  field,  he  took  it,  and  as  it 
consisted  of  trousers  and  coat  and  an  old  billycock 
hat,  Wundt  was  now  in  possession  of  a  complete 
disguise.  He  hid  the  things  in  a  secret  haunt,  that 
really  belonged  to  Norris  and  Booth ;  and  they  liked 
him  at  first  and  helped  him  a  good  deal ;  but  finally 
they  quarrelled  with  him,  because  he  said  England 


50  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

was  a  swine's  hole,  and  told  them  that  a  time  was 
coming  —  he  hoped  not  till  he  grew  up  —  when 
England  would  simply  be  a  Protectorate  of  Ger- 
many, whatever  that  is.  So  they  invited  him  to 
fight  whichever  he  liked  of  them,  and  when  he  re- 
fused, though  just  the  right  weight,  they  smacked 
his  head  and  dared  him  to  go  to  their  secret  cave 
again. 

When  they  smacked  his  head,  his  eyes  glittered 
and  he  smiled,  but  nothing  more.  He  never  would 
fight  with  fists,  because  he  said  only  apes  and  Eng- 
lishmen fought  with  Nature's  weapons.  But  at 
single-stick  he  was  exceedingly  good,  and,  in  fact, 
better  than  anybody  in  the  school  but  Forrester. 
He  much  wished  we  could  use  swords  and  slash 
each  other's  faces,  as  he  hoped  to  do  when  he  be- 
came a  student  in  his  own  country,  and  he  said  it 
was  a  mean  sight  to  see  old  Dunston  and  Brown 
and  Manwaring  and  Hutchings  and  the  other  mas- 
ters all  without  a  scratch.  He  said  in  Germany 
every  self-respecting  man  of  the  reigning  classes 
was  gashed  to  the  bone ;  and  decent  people  wouldn't 
know  a  man  who  wasn't,  because  he  was  sure  to  be 
a  shopkeeper  or  some  low  class  thing  like  that. 
As  to  games,  he  held  them  in  great  contempt.  It 
seems  people  of  any  class  in  Germany  only  play 


THE  COUNTRYMAN  OF  KANT  51 

one  game  and  that's  the  war  game  —  Kriegspiel, 
he  called  it. 

I  said:  "What  the  deuce  is  the  good  of  always 
playing  the  war  game  if  you're  not  going  to  war?  " 

And  he  said :  ^'  Ach! " 

It  was  a  favourite  word  of  his,  and  he  used  it  in 
all  sorts  of  ways  with  all  sorts  of  expressions. 
Forbes,  who,  like  me,  had  a  kind  of  interest  in 
Wundt  that  almost  amounted  to  friendship,  asked 
him  if  women  played  the  war  game,  and  he  said  he 
didn't  know  what  they  played  except  the  piano. 
All  women  were  worms,  in  his  opinion.  Of  course, 
he  gassed  about  everything  German,  and  said 
that,  from  science  and  art  and  music  to  match- 
boxes and  sausages,  his  country  was  first  and  the 
rest  nowhere.  He  joined  our  school  cadet  corps 
eagerly,  and  became  an  officer  of  some  sort  in  a 
month;  but  he  was  fearfully  pitying  about  it,  and 
said  that  English  ways  of  drilling  were  enough  to 
make  a  cat  laugh,  or  words  to  that  effect.  After 
he  became  an  officer,  he  put  on  fearful  side,  though 
as  just  one  of  the  rank  and  file  he'd  been  quite  hum- 
ble; and  then,  when  he  ordered  Saunders,  who 
wasn't  an  officer,  to  do  something  out  of  drill  hours, 
and  Saunders  told  him  to  do  it  himself,  he  turned 
white  and  dashed  at  Saunders,  who,  of  course, 


52  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

licked  him  on  the  spot  and  made  his  nose  bleed.  He 
was  properly  mad  about  that,  and  said  that  if  it 
had  happened  in  Germany,  Saunders  would  have 
been  shot ;  but  as  it  happened  in  England,  of  course 
Saunders  wasn't.  Travers  major  tried  to  explain 
to  Wundt  that  we  weren't  real  soldiers,  and  that, 
when  not  with  the  cadet  corps,  he  was  no  better 
than  anybody  else,  but  he  couldn't  see  this.  He 
said  that  in  his  country  if  you  were  once  an  officer, 
you  were  always  an  officer,  and  that  there  was  a 
gulf  fixed  between  the  men  and  their  officers;  and 
he  called  Saunders  "  cannon  fodder  "  to  Batson ; 
and  when  Batson  told  Saunders,  Saunders  made 
Wundt  carry  him  on  his  back  up  to  the  gym,,  and 
there  licked  him  again  and  made  his  nose  bleed 
once  more,  much  to  his  wrath. 

On  the  whole,  owing  to  his  ideas,  which  he 
wouldn't  keep  to  himself,  Wundt  didn't  have  too 
good  a  time  at  Merivale.  He  couldn't  understand 
us,  and  said  we  were  slackers  and  rotters,  and  that 
our  mercenary  army  was  no  good,  and  that  Ger- 
many was  the  greatest  country  in  the  world,  and 
we'd  live  to  know  it  —  perhaps  sooner  than  we 
thought.  Travers  major  tried  hard  to  explain  to 
him  how  it  was,  but  he  couldn't  or  wouldn't  under- 
stand. 


THE  COUNTRYMAN  OF  KANT  53 

Travers  said :  "  It's  like  this.  Germany  takes 
herself  too  seriously  and  other  countries  not  seri- 
ously enough.  An  Englishman  is  always  saying 
his  own  country  is  going  to  the  dogs,  and  his  Army's 
rotten,  and  his  Navy  only  a  lot  of  old  sardine  tins 
that  ought  to  be  scrapped,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing. 
That's  his  way,  and  when  you  bally  Germans  hear 
us  talk  like  that,  you  go  and  believe  it,  and  don't 
understand  it's  our  national  character  to  run  our- 
selves down.  And  you  chaps  always  go  to  the  other 
extreme  and  brag  about  your  army,  and  your  guns, 
and  your  discipline,  and  your  genius,  and  all  the 
rest  of  it ;  and,  of  course,  we  don't  believe  you  in  the 
least,  because  gas  like  that  carries  its  own  reward, 
and  nobody  in  the  world  could  be  so  much  better 
than  all  the  rest  of  the  world  as  you  think  you  are. 
And  if  you  imagine,  because  we  run  ourselves  down, 
we  would  let  anybody  else  dare  to  run  us  down, 
you're  wrong.  And  if  you  think  our  free  army  is 
frightened  of  your  slave  army,  and  would  mind 
taking  you  on,  ten  to  one,  on  land  or  sea,  you're 
also  wrong.'' 

It  was  a  prophecy  in  a  way,  though  Travers  lit- 
tle knew  it,  for  the  war  broke  out  next  holidays, 
and  when  we  went  back  to  school,  it  was  in  full 
swing.     And  so,  naturally,  was  Wundt.     He  wasn't 


54  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

going  home  for  the  vac.  in  any  case,  but  stopping 
at  Merivale,  and  he  had  done  so.  He  told  me  the 
Doctor  had  talked  some  piffle  to  him  about  the  du- 
ties of  non-combatants;  but,  as  Wundt  truly  said, 
every  German  in  the  world  is  a  combatant  in  time 
of  war,  and  if  you  can't  do  one  thing,  you  must  try 
and  do  another.  In  fact,  old  Dunston  little  knew 
the  German  character,  and  when  he  found  it  out, 
he  was  a  good  bit  astonished,  not  to  say  hurt. 

He,  however,  discovered  it  jolly  quickly,  and  I 
did  first  of  all,  because,  owing  to  being  rather  in- 
terested in  human  nature,  I  encouraged  Wundt  in  a 
sort  of  way,  and  let  him  talk  to  me,  and  tried  to 
see  things  from  his  point  of  view,  as  far  as  I  could 
—  that  is,  without  doing  anything  unsporting  to 
England.  The  great  point  was  to  keep  your  tem- 
per with  Wundt;  and,  of  course,  most  chaps 
couldn't,  because  he  was  so  beastly  sure  he  was 
right  —  at  least,  his  nation  was.  But  I  didn't 
mind  all  that  humbug,  and  found,  by  being  patient 
with  him,  that,  under  all  this  flare-up,  he  was  what 
you  might  call  deadly  keen  on  his  blessed  Father- 
land. He  fairly  panted  with  patriotism,  and  in 
these  moments,  quite  ignored  my  feelings. 

"  Now  you  know  why  I  wanted  to  grow  up,"  he 
said  to  me.     "  I  hoped  this  wouldn't  have  happened 


THE  COUNTRYMAN  OF  KANT  55 

till  I  could  be  in  it.  But  it  will  be  all  over  and 
your  country  a  thing  of  the  past  before  I'm  sixteen 
—  worse  luck !  " 

As  he  was  going  to  be  sixteen  in  October,  that 
was  a  bit  hopeful  of  Wundt.  His  father  or  some- 
body had  stuffed  him  up  that  Germany  was  being 
sat  on  by  the  world,  and  couldn't  stand  it  much 
longer;  and  after  the  war  began,  he  honestly  be- 
lieved that  it  was  the  end  of  England,  and,  in  a 
way,  he  was  more  decent  than  ever  he'd  been  before. 
When  we  came  back  at  the  end  of  the  holidays, 
Wundt  welcomed  me  in  a  very  queer  sort  of  man- 
ner. Somebody  had  treated  me  just  the  same  in 
the  past,  and,  after  trying  for  a  week  to  think  who 
it  was,  I  remembered  it  was  my  Uncle  Samuel,  after 
I'd  lost  my  mother.  Wundt  evidently  felt  sorry 
for  all  of  us  in  general  and  for  me  in  particular 
as  his  special  friend. 

"  Of  course,"  he  said,  "  I  can't  pretend  I  didn't 
want  it  to  haj^pen ;  but  you  won't  see  it  is  for  the 
good  of  the  world  that  your  country's  got  to  go 
down.     And  so  I'm  sorry  for  you,  if  anything." 

"  Do  you  really  think  it  has  got  to  go  down?  "  I 
asked  Wundt,  and  he  said  it  wasn't  so  much  what 
he  thought  as  what  was  bound  to  take  place. 

"  Either  England's  got  to  go,  or  else  Germany," 


56  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

he  said,  "  and  as  the  Teuton  is  the  world-power  for 
religion  and  culture  and  everything  that  really  mat- 
ters, and  also  miles  strongest,  England's  naturally 
got  to  go.  You've  had  your  turn;  now  it's  ours. 
The  Kaiser  speaks,  Germany  listens  and  obeys." 

Booth  asked  him  what  day  the  Germans  would 
be  at  Merivale,  and  if  he'd  got  a  plan  of  campaign 
marked  out;  and  he  said  about  the  half-term  holi- 
day, or  earlier,  they  would  come.  And  Booth  said 
that  would  mean  a  short  term,  anyway,  which  had 
its  bright  side. 

Then  Tracey,  who  is  awful  sarcastic,  though  it 
doesn't  generally  come  off,  asked  Wundt  how  he 
had  arrived  at  this  idea,  and  Wundt  said  from  read- 
ing papers  that  his  father  had  sent  him  via  Holland. 

"  Your  papers  are  chockful  of  lies,"  he  said.  "  If 
you  want  the  truth,  those  of  you  who  can  read  Ger- 
man can  see  it  in  my  papers." 

Of  course,  some  of  the  Sixth  could  read  German, 
and  they  borrowed  his  papers,  and  were  much  sur- 
prised that  Wundt  really  believed  such  absolute 
rot  against  the  evidence  of  our  papers.  But  he  was 
simply  blind,  and  went  so  far  as  to  say  that  he'd 
sooner  believe  the  pottiest  little  German  rag  than 
all  our  swaggerest  papers,  let  alone  the  Merivale 
Weekly  Trumpet,  which  was  fearfully  warlike,  be- 


THE  COUNTRYMAN  OF  KANT  57 

cause  the  editor  had  a  son  who  was  training  for  the 
Front. 

But  most  of  all,  Wundt  hated  Punch,  and,  find- 
ing this  out,  we  used  to  slip  the  cartoons  into  his 
desk,  and  put  them  under  his  pillow,  and  arrange 
them  elsewhere  where  he  must  find  them.  These 
made  him  fairly  foam  at  the  mouth,  and  he  said  he 
hoped  the  first  thing  the  Germans  would  do,  when 
they  got  to  London,  would  be  to  go  to  Punch  and 
put  the  men  who  drew  the  pictures  and  made  the 
jokes  to  the  sword. 

No  doubt  it  was  because  they  were  so  jolly  true. 

The  masters  were  very  decent  to  Wundt, 
especially  Fortescue,  who  saw  how  trying  it  must 
be  for  him,  living  in  an  enemy's  country ;  and  when 
Wundt  told  me  in  secret  that  he  felt  his  position 
was  becoming  unbearable,  and  that  he  had  written 
and  asked  if  he  could  be  exchanged  for  a  prisoner, 
or  something.  He  said  in  a  gloomy  sort  of  voice : 
"  I  may  tell  you  I  haven't  wasted  my  time  here,  and 
perhaps  some  day  Doctor  Dunston  and  you  chaps 
will  know  it  to  your  cost." 

Well,  though  friendly  enough  to  Wundt,  I  didn't 
much  like  that,  and  told  my  own  special  chum, 
Manwaring,  what  he'd  said;  and  Manwaring  told 
me  that  in  his  opinion  Wundt  ought  to  be  neutral- 


58  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

ised  immediately.  But  I  knew  enough  of  Wundt 
to  feel  certain  he  could  never  be  properly  neutral- 
ised, because  he  had  told  me  that  once  a  German 
always  a  German,  and  that  he'd  rather  be  a  dead 
German  than  a  living  King  of  England,  and  that  if 
he  had  to  stop  in  England  for  a  million  years,  he'd 
still  be  as  German  as  ever,  if  not  more  so.  And 
he'd  also  fairly  shaken  with  pride  because  he'd  read 
somewhere  that  the  Kaiser  had  said  that  he  would 
give  any  doctor  a  hundred  thousand  marks  if  he 
would  draw  every  drop  of  English  blood  out  of  his 
veins.  And  when  he  said  it,  Tracey  had  answered 
that  if  the  Kaiser  came  over  to  England,  there  were 
plenty  of  doctors  who  would  oblige  him  for  half  the 
money. 

But  now  I  thought,  without  any  unkind  feeling 
to  Wundt,  that  I  ought  to  tell  Travers  major,  as 
head  of  the  school,  of  his  dark  threats ;  and  I  did ; 
and  Travers  thanked  me  and  said  I  was  quite  right 
to  tell  him,  because  war  is  war,  and  you  never 
know. 

Of  course,  if  Wundt  was  going  to  turn  out  to  be 
a  spy,  it  wasn't  possible  for  me  to  be  his  friend, 
and  I  told  him  so.  And  he  saw  that.  He  said  he 
was  sorry,  if  anything,  to  lose  my  friendship,  but 
he  should  always  do  all  that  he  considered  right  in 


THE  COUNTRYMAN  OF  KANT  59 

the  service  of  his  country,  and  he  couldn't  let  me 
stand  between  him  and  his  duty.  Which  amounted 
to  admitting  that  he  was  a  spy,  or,  at  any  rate,  was 
trying  to  be  one;  for,  of  course,  at  Merivale  a  spy 
was  no  more  use  than  he  would  have  been  at  the 
North  Pole.  There  was  simply  nothing  to  spy 
about,  except  the  photographs  of  new  girls  on 
Brown's  mantelpiece. 

Then  Travers  made  a  move,  and  he  was  sorry  to 
do  it ;  but  he  was  going  to  be  a  soldier,  just  as  much 
as  Wundt  was,  and  though  he  never  jawed  about 
Woolwich  like  Wundt  did  about  Potsdam,  yet  he 
was  quite  as  military  at  heart ;  and  though  he  didn't 
wear  the  English  colours  inside  his  waistcoat  lin- 
ing, like  Wundt  wore  the  German  colours,  as  he  ad- 
mitted to  me  in  a  friendly  moment,  yet  Travers  felt 
just  as  keen  about  England  as  Wundt  did  about 
Germany,  and  quite  as  cast  down  when  we  heard 
about  Mons  as  Wundt  was  when  he  heard  about  the 
retreat  on  the  Marne.  He  pretended,  of  course,  it 
was  only  strategy,  but  he  knew  jolly  well  it  wasn't. 

Then  Travers  major  reluctantly  decided  that, 
with  a  spy,  certain  things  must  be  done.  He  didn't 
like  doing  them,  but  they  had  to  be  done.  And  the 
first  thing  was  to  prove  it. 

"  You  can  only  prove  a  chap  is  a  spy  by  spying 


60  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

yourself,"  Travers  said,  and  well  knowing  the 
peculiar  skill  of  Norris  and  Booth,  he  told  them  to 
keep  a  careful  lookout  on  Wundt  and  report  any- 
thing suspicious ;  which  they  did  do,  because  it  was 
work  to  which  they  were  well  suited  by  their  na- 
tures, and  they  soon  reported  that  Wundt  went 
long  walks  out  of  bounds,  and  evidently  avoided 
people  as  much  as  possible.  Once  they  surprised 
him  making  notes,  and  when  he  saw  Booth  coming, 
he  tore  them  up. 

Then  Travers  major  did  a  strong  thing,  and  or- 
dered that  the  box  of  Wundt  should  be  searched. 
I  happened  to  know  that  Wundt  was  very  keen  to 
get  a  letter  off  by  post,  which  he  said  was  impor- 
tant, yet  hesitated  to  send  for  fear  of  accidents; 
and  that  decided  Travers. 

So  it  was  done,  quite  openly  and  without  subtei- 
fuge,  as  they  say,  because  we  just  took  the  key 
from  Wundt  by  force  and  told  him  we  were  going  to 
do  it,  and  then  did  it.  He  protested  very  violently, 
but  the  protest,  as  Travers  said,  was  not  sus- 
tained. 

And  we  found  his  box  contained  fearfully  in- 
criminating matter,  for  he  had  a  one-barrelled 
breech-loading  pistol  in  it,  with  a  box  of  ammuni- 
tion, of  which  w^e  had  never  heard  until  that  mo- 


THE  COUNTRYMAN  OF  KANT  61 

ment,  and  a  complete  map  on  a  huge  scale  of  Meri- 
vale  and  the  country  round.  It  was  a  wonderful 
map,  and  how  he  had  made  it,  and  nobody  ever  seen 
it,  was  extraordinary.  At  least,  so  it  seemed,  till 
we  remembered  that  he  had  been  here  through  the 
holidays  on  his  own.  There  were  numbers  in  red 
ink  all  over  the  map,  and  remarks  carefully  written 
in  German ;  and  though  it  is  impossible  to  give  you 
any  idea  of  the  map,  which  was  beautifully  drawn 
and  about  three  yards  square,  if  not  more,  yet  I 
can  reproduce  the  military  remarks  upon  it,  which 
Travers  translated  into  English. 

They  went  like  this,  and  showed  in  rather  a  pain- 
ful way  what  Wundt  really  was  at  heart.  And  it 
showed  what  Germany  was,  too ;  and  no  doubt  thou- 
sands of  other  Germans  all  over  the  United  King- 
dom had  been  doing  the  same  thing,  and  still  are. 

After  the  first  shock  of  being  discovered,  I  hon- 
estly believe  he  was  pleased  to  be  seen  in  his  true 
colours,  and  gloried  in  his  crime. 

These  were  the  notes  in  cold  blood,  as  you  may 
say :  — 

1.  A  wood.  Good  cover  for  guns.  In  the  middle 
is  a  spring  where  a  gamekeeper's  wife  gets  water. 
It  might  easily  he  poisoned. 


62  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

2.  A  large  number  of  fields.  Some  have  potatoes 
in  them  and  some  have  turnips. 

3.  A  village  with  fifty  or  sixty  houses  and  about 
two  hundred  and  thirty-five  inhabitants,  mostly 
women  and  children.    Presents  no  difficulties. 

4.  A  church  with  a  tower.  A  very  good  place 
for  wireless  or  light  gun.  The  pews  inside  would 
be  good  for  wounded.  Cover  for  infantry  in  the 
churchyard. 

5.  A  stream  with  one  bridge,  which  might  easily 
be  blown  up;  but  it  would  not  be  necessary,  as  the 
stream  is  only  six  feet  across,  and  you  could  easily 
walk  over  it.  Too  small  for  pontoons.  Small  fish 
in  it. 

6.  A  large  field  which  was  planted  with  corn, 
but  is  now  empty.  A  good  place  for  aeroplanes  to 
land.     Can't  find  out  where  corn  is  gone. 

7.  A  railroad  with  one  line  that  goes  up  to  main 
line.  Could  easily  be  destroyed,  but  might  have 
strategic  value. 

8.  A  hill  where  guns  could  be  placed  that  would 
cover  advance  of  troops  on  Merivale. 

9.  The  school.  This  stands  on  rising  ground  a 
mile  from  the  hill.  No.  8,  and  could  easily  be  de- 
stroyed by  field-guns.  Or  it  could  easily  be  used 
as  a  hospital.    It  contains  a  hundred  beds,  and  the 


THE  COUNTRYMAN  OF  KANT  63 

chapel  could  easily  hold  a  hundred  more.  There  is 
a  garden  and  a  fountain  of  good  water.  Also  a 
well  in  the  house.  The  playing-field  is  a  quarter  of 
a  mile  off.  Tents  could  easily  he  put  up  there  for 
troops. 

10.  A  village  schoolroom  three  hundred  yards 
from  the  church.  It  has  been  turned  into  a  hospi- 
tal for  casualties.  There  are  thirteen  or  fourteen 
nurses  of  the  Red  Gross  waiting  for  wounded  sol- 
diers to  arrive.  They  are  amateurs^  hut  have 
passed  some  sort  of  examination.  The  wounded 
are  said  to  he  coming.  This  place  could  easily  he 
shelled  from  the  hill  marked  No.  8. 

11.  A  forest  full  of  game,  and  in  the  middle  of 
it  a  park  and  the  Manor  House,  belonging  to  a  man 
called  Sir  Neville  Carew.  He  has  great  wealth, 
and  the  mansion  could  easily  he  looted,  and  then 
either  used  for  officers  or  burned  down. 

12.  A  farm  rich  in  sheep  and  cattle  and  chickens, 
also  turkeys.    It  would  present  no  difficulties. 

13.  The  sea.  This  is  distant  ten  miles  from  here, 
and  there  is  an  unfortified  bay,  which  looks  deep. 
We  went  there  for  a  holiday  last  summer,  and  some 
of  us  went  out  in  a  boat.  I  pretended  to  fish  and 
tried  to  take  soundings,  hut  regret  to  report  that  I 
failed.    However,  the  water  was  quite  deep  enough 


64  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

for  small  battlecraft.  The  cliffs  are  red  and  made 
of  hard  rock.  There  are  about  twenty  fishing -hoats, 
and  a  coastguard  station  on  top;  hut  I  saw  no  wire- 
less.    There  is  a  semaphore. 

14.  A  medical  doctor's  house  with  a  garage. 
Would  present  no  difficulties.  I  saw  petrol  tins  in 
the  yard. 

That  was  all,  and  Travers  at  once  decided  to  hand 
the  map  and  the  pistol  and  cartridges  to  Doctor 
Dunston. 

"  I'm  very  unwilling  to  do  it,"  he  said,  "  but  this 
is  a  bit  too  thick  altogether.  It  is  pure,  unadulter- 
ated spying  of  the  most  blackguard  sort.  And  if  I 
had  anything  to  do  with  it,  I  should  fine  Wundt 
every  penny  he's  got  and  imprison  him  for  six 
months  and  then  deport  him." 

So  he  took  the  evidence  of  guilt  to  Dunston,  and, 
of  course,  Dunston  had  the  day  of  his  life  over 
them.  Some  of  the  masters  considered  it  funny, 
and  I  believe  Peacock,  who  translated  the  map  for 
Dunston,  thought  it  was  rather  fine  of  Wundt; 
but  old  Dunston  didn't  think  it  was  funny,  or  fine, 
either.  He  had  the  whole  school  in  chapel,  and 
hung  up  the  map  on  a  blackboard,  and  waved  the 
pistol  first  in  one  hand  and  then  the  other^  and 


THE  COUNTRYMAN  OF  KANT  65 

talked  as  only  he  can  talk  when  he's  fairly  roused 
by  a  great  occasion. 

I  believe  what  hurt  him  most  was  Wundt  say- 
ing it  would  be  so  jolly  easy  to  knock  out  Merivale ; 
and  to  hear  Wundt  explaining  how  the  school  could 
be  shelled  fairly  made  old  Dunston  get  on  his  hind 
legs.  In  his  great  moments  he  always  quotes 
Shakespeare,  and  he  did  now.  He  said  he  wasn't 
going  to  have  a  serpent  sting  him  twice,  anyway. 
He  also  said  it  was  enough  to  make  Kant  and 
Goethe  turn  in  their  graves;  and,  that  for  all  he 
could  see,  they  had  expended  their  genius  in  vain, 
so  far  as  their  native  land  was  concerned.  And 
then  he  went  on. 

"  Needless  to  say,  Jacob  Wundt,  you  are  techni- 
cally expelled.  I  say  '  technically,'  because,  until  I 
have  communicated  with  your  unfortunate  father, 
it  is  impossible  literally  to  expel  you.  To  be  ex- 
pelled, a  boy  must  be  expelled  from  somewhere  to 
somewhere,  and  for  the  moment  there  is  nowhere 
that  I  know  of  to  where  you  can  be  expelled.  But 
rest  assured  that  a  way  shall  be  found  at  the  earli- 
est opportunity.  Indeed,  it  may  be  my  duty  to 
hand  you  over  to  the  military  authorities,  and, 
should  that  be  the  case,  I  shall  not  hesitate.  For 
the  present  you  are  interned." 


66  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

Wundt  merely  said  "  Ach! "  but  he  said  it  in 
such  a  fearfully  contemptuous  tone  of  voice  that 
the  Doctor  flogged  him  then  and  there ;  and  Travers 
major  thought  Wundt  ought  not  to  have  been 
flogged  by  rights,  but  treated  as  a  prisoner  of  war, 
or  else  shot  —  he  didn't  seem  to  be  sure  which. 

And  as  for  Wundt,  he  evidently  thought  the  Bel- 
gian atrocities  were  a  fool  to  his  being  flogged ;  and 
he  got  so  properly  wicked  that  the  Doctor  had  him 
locked  up  all  night,  with  nothing  but  bread  and 
water  to  eat,  and  the  gardener  to  guard  him. 

Then  a  good  many  chaps  began  to  be  sorry  for 
Wundt ;  but  their  sorrow  was  wasted,  for  the  very 
next  day  Dunston  heard  from  his  father  that  Wundt 
could  go  home  through  Holland,  with  two  other 
German  boys  who  were  being  looked  after  by  the 
American  Ambassador,  or  some  such  pot  in  Lon- 
don. So  he  went,  and  after  he  had  gone,  Fortescue 
asked  the  Doctor  if  he  might  have  Wundt's  map,  as 
a  psychological  curiosity,  or  some  such  thing,  and 
Dunston  said  he  had  burned  the  map  to  cinders, 
and  seemed  a  good  deal  pained  with  Fortescue  for 
wanting  to  treasure  such  an  outrage. 

Wundt  promised  to  write  to  me  when  he  left; 
but  he  never  did,  and,  perhaps,  if  it's  true  that 
German  boys  of  sixteen  go  to  the  Front,  he  may  be 


THE  COUNTRYMAN  OF  KANT  67 

there  now.  And  if  he  is,  and  if  his  side  wins,  and 
if  Wundt  is  with  the  Germans  when  they  come  to 
Merivale,  I  know  the  first  thing  he'll  do  will  be  to 
slay  old  Dunston,  and  the  second  thing  he'll  do  will 
be  to  slay  Saunders. 

But  in  the  meantime,  of  course,  there  is  a  pretty 
rosy  chance  he  may  get  slain  himself.  Not  that 
he'd  mind,  if  he  knew  his  side  was  on  top  and  going 
to  conquer.    Only,  perish  the  thought,  as  they  say. 


TRAVERS  MINOR,  SCOUT 

Before  the  fearful  war  with  Germany  began,  Dr. 
Dunston  was  not  very  keen  about  us  joining  the 
Boy  Scouts  on  half -holidays.  He  liked  better  for 
us  to  play  games ;  and  if  you  didn't  play  games,  he 
liked  you  to  go  out  with  Brown  to  botanize  in  the 
hedges.  It  was  a  choice  of  evils  to  me  and  Travers 
minor,  because  we  hated  games  and  we  fairly 
loathed  botanizing  with  Brown.  Unluckily  for  us, 
he  was  the  Forum  master  of  the  Lower  Fourth,  and 
so  we  had  more  than  enough  of  him  in  school,  with- 
out seeing  him  pull  weeds  to  pieces  on  half -holidays 
and  talk  about  the  wonders  of  Nature.  For  that 
matter,  he  was  about  the  wonderfullest  wonder  of 
Nature  himself,  if  he'd  only  known  it. 

But  after  the  War  began,  old  Dunston  quite 
changed  his  attitude  to  the  Boy  Scouts,  and,  in  some 
ways,  that  was  the  best  thing  that  ever  happened 
for  me  and  Travers  minor,  though  in  other  ways  it 
was  not. 

I'm  called  Briggs,  and  Travers  minor  and  I  came 

the  same  term  and  chummed  from  the  first.     We 

SB 


TRAVERS  MINOR,  SCOUT  69 

had  the  same  opinions  about  most  things,  and 
agreed  about  hating  games  and  preferring  a  more 
solitary  life ;  but  we  were  very  different  in  many  re- 
spects, for  Travers  minor  was  going  to  be  a  clergy- 
man, and  I  had  no  ideas  of  that  sort,  my  father  be- 
ing a  stock  broker  in  the  "  Brighton  A  "  market. 
Travers  minor  was  more  excitable  than  Travers 
major,  though  quite  as  keen  about  England,  and 
after  being  divided  for  some  time  between  the  Navy 
and  the  Church,  he  rather  cleverly  combined  the 
two  professions,  and  determined  to  be  the  chaplain 
of  a  battleship.  His  enthusiasm  for  England  was 
very  remarkable,  and  after  a  time,  though  I  had 
never  been  the  least  enthusiastic  about  England 
before,  yet,  owing  to  the  pressure  of  Travers  minor, 
I  got  to  be.  Nothing  like  he  was,  of  course.  He 
used  to  fairly  tremble  about  England,  and  once, 
when  an  Irish  boy,  who  didn't  know  Home  Rule 
had  been  passed,  said  he'd  just  as  soon  blow  his 
nose  on  the  Union  Jack  as  his  handkerchief  — 
which  was  rot,  seeing  he  never  had  one  —  young 
Travers  flew  at  him  like  a  tiger  from  a  bow,  and 
knocked  him  down  and  hammered  the  back  of  his 
head  on  the  floor  of  the  chapel.  As  soon  as  he  had 
recovered  from  his  great  surprise,  the  Irish  boy  — 
Bice  he  was  called  —  got  up  and  licked  Travers 


70  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

minor  pretty  badly,  which  he  could  easily  do,  be- 
ing cock  of  the  Lower  School;  but,  all  the  same, 
Rice  respected  Travers,  for  doing  what  he  did,  and 
when  he  heard  that  Home  Rule  was  passed,  he  said 
that  altered  the  case,  and  never  cheeked  the  Eng- 
lish flag  again. 

Then  Dunston  changed  towards  the  Boy  Scouts, 
and  said  such  of  us  as  liked  might  join  them ;  and 
about  twenty  did.  We  were  allowed  to  hunt  about 
in  couples  on  half-holidays ;  and  the  rule  for  a  Boy 
Scout  is  always  to  be  on  the  look-out  to  justify  his 
existence  when  scouting,  and  to  assist  people,  and 
help  the  halt  and  the  lame,  and  tell  people  the  way 
if  they  want  to  know  it,  and  buck  about  generally, 
and,  if  possible,  never  stop  a  bit  of  scouting  till 
he's  done  a  good  action  of  some  kind  to  somebody. 
Of  course,  we  had  to  do  our  good  actions  in  bounds, 
and  Travers  minor  often  pointed  out,  as  a  rather 
curious  thing,  that  over  and  over  again  there  were 
chances  to  do  good  actions  if  we'd  gone  out  of 
bounds  —  sometimes  even  over  a  hedge  into  a  field. 

But  he  generally  found  something  useful  to  do, 
and  I  generally  didn't.  The  good  action  that  oc- 
curred oftenest  was  to  give  pennies  to  tramps,  but 
Travers  did  not  support  this.     He  said: 

"  I  dare  say  you've  noticed,  Briggs,  that  all  these 


TRAVERS  MINOR,  SCOUT  71 

chaps  who  ask  us  for  money  have  got  starving  fam- 
ilies at  home.  Well,  if  it's  true,  they  ought  to  be  at 
home  looking  after  them.  But  it  isn't  true.  As  a 
rule,  they  spend  the  money  on  beer.  And  when  you 
ask  them  why  they  haven't  enlisted,  they  all  say 
they're  too  short,  or  too  tall,  or  haven't  got  any 
back  teeth,  or  something." 

We  were  scouting  the  day  Travers  minor  pointed 
this  out,  and  that  was  the  very  afternoon  that  we 
met  the  best  tramp  of  the  lot.  I  should  have  be 
lieved  him  myself  and  tried  to  help  him ;  but  Trav- 
ers, strangely  enough,  is  much  kinder  to  animals 
and  dumb  creatures  in  general  than  he  is  to  men, 
especially  tramps,  and  it  took  a  very  clever  tramp 
to  make  him  believe  him.     But  this  one  did. 

He  was  old  and  grizzled  and  grey,  and  his  mous- 
tache was  yellow  with  tobacco.  He  was  sitting 
rolling  a  cigarette  in  the  hedge,  and  as  we  passed 
together  in  uniform  with  our  scout  poles,  he  got  up 
and  saluted  us  with  a  military  salute. 

"What  a  bit  of  luck!"  he  said.  "You're  just 
the  chaps  I'm  on  the  look-out  for." 

Travers  stopped  and  so  did  I. 

"  D'you  want  anything,  my  good  man?"  said 
Travers. 

"  Yes,  I  do.     I  want  a  sharp  Boy  Scout  to  listen 


72  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

to  me.  I'm  telling  secrets,  mind  you ;  but  you're  in 
the  Service  just  as  much  as  I  am,  and  I  can  trust 
you." 

"  What  Service?  "  asked  Travers  minor.  "  What 
Service  are  you  in?  " 

"  The  Secret  Service,"  said  the  tramp.  "  I  dare 
say  you  think  I'm  only  a  badgering  old  loafer,  and 
not  worth  the  price  of  the  boots  on  my  feet.  Far 
from  it.  I'm  Sir  Baden-Powell's  brother !  That's 
why  I  was  glad  to  see  you  boys  come  along." 

"  I  don't  believe  it,"  said  Travers. 

"  Quite  right  not  to,"  answered  the  old  man. 
"  That  is,  till  I  explain.  As  you  know,  the  coun- 
try's fairly  crawling  with  German  spies  at  present, 
and  it  takes  a  pretty  good  chap  to  smell  them  out. 
That's  my  game.  I've  run  down  thirty-two  during 
the  last  month,  and  I'm  on  the  track  of  a  lot  more ; 
but  to  keep  up  my  character  of  an  old  tramp,  I 
dress  like  this ;  and  then  they  don't  suspect  me,  and 
I  just  meet  'em  in  pubs  and  stand  'em  drinks,  and 
tip  'em  a  bit  of  their  lingo  and  pretend  I'm  German, 
too." 

'  I  was  a  good  deal  impressed  by  this,  and  so  was 
Travers  minor. 

"I've  been  standing  drinks  to  a  doubtful  cus- 


TRAVERS  MINOR,  SCOUT  73 

tomer  only  this  morning,  and  spent  my  last  half- 
crown  doing  it,"  went  on  the  great  Baden-Powell's 
brother.  "  That's  why  I  stopped  you  boys.  I'm 
a  good  way  from  my  base  for  the  moment,  and  I 
shall  be  obliged  if  you  can  lend  me  half  a  sovereign, 
or  whatever  you've  got  on  you,  till  to-morrow.  If 
you  let  me  have  your  address,  you  shall  get  it  by 
midday ;  and  I'll  mention  your  names  to  *  B.-P.' 
next  time  we  meet." 

Travers  minor  looked  at  the  spy  in  a  spellbound 
sort  of  way. 

"  It's  a  wonderful  disguise,"  he  said. 

"  Not  one  of  my  best,  though,"  answered  the  man. 
"  I  never  look  the  same  two  days  running.  Very 
likely  to-morrow  I  shall  be  a  smart  young  officer; 
and  then,  again,  I  may  look  like  a  farmer,  or  a 
clergyman,  or  anything.  It's  part  of  my  work  to 
be  a  master  of  the  art  of  disguises." 

Travers  minor  began  to  whisper  to  me,  and  asked 
me  how  much  money  I  had.  Then  the  great  spy 
spoke  again. 

"  I  might  give  you  boys  a  Job  next  Saturday  after- 
noon, but  you'll  have  to  be  pretty  smart  to  do  it. 
I'm  taking  a  German  then.  I've  marked  him  down 
at  Little  Mudborough  —  you  know,  a  mile  from 


74.  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

Merivale  —  and  on  Saturday  next,  at  '  The  Wool 
Pack  ^  public-house,  I  meet  him  and  arrest  him.  I 
shall  want  a  bit  of  help,  I  dare  say." 

Travers  fairly  trembled  with  excitement  after 
that.  Then  he  felt  in  his  pocket  and  found  he'd 
only  got  a  shilling,  and  this  he  gave  to  the  spy  with- 
out a  thought ;  but  I  happened  to  have  five  shillings 
by  an  extraordinary  fluke,  it  being  my  birthday, 
and  Brown  had  changed  a  postal  order  from  my 
mother;  so  I  was  not  nearly  so  keen  about  the  spy 
as  Travers  minor.  Travers  was  a  good  deal  re- 
lieved to  hear  I'd  got  as  much,  and  even  then 
apologised  that  we  could  only  produce  six  bob 
between  us. 

The  spy  seemed  rather  disappointed,  and  I  made 
a  feeble  effort  to  keep  my  five  shillings  by  saying : 

"  Couldn't  you  get  to  the  police-station?  They'd 
be  sure  to  have  tons  of  money  there." 

But  at  the  mention  of  a  police-station  he  showed 
the  utmost  annoyance,  combined  with  contempt. 
He  said:  "  What's  your  name?  " 

And  I  said :  "  Briggs." 

"  Well,  Briggs,"  he  said,  "  let  me  tell  you,  if 
there's  one  thing  the  Secret  Service  hates  and  de- 
spises more  than  another,  it's  a  police-station ;  and 
if  there's  one  bigger  fool  on  earth  than  another,  it's 


TRAVERS  MINOR,  SCOUT  76 

a  policeman.  It  would  very  likely  be  death  to  my 
whole  career  as  a  spy,  if  I  went  to  a  policeman  and 
told  him  who  I  was." 

"  Don't  you  ever  work  with  them,  Mr.  Baden- 
Powell?"  asked  Travers;  and  he  said: 

"  Never,  if  I  can  help  it." 

So  he  had  the  six  bob,  much  to  my  regret,  and  told 
us  to  be  at  "  The  Wool  Pack  "  public-house  at  Mud- 
borough  on  the  following  Saturday  afternoon.  He 
asked  what  would  be  the  most  convenient  time  for 
use  to  be  there,  and  we  said  half-past  three,  and  he 
said  "Good!" 

Then  Travers  asked  rather  a  smart  question  and 
said  — 

"  How  shall  we  know  you?  " 

And  the  spy  said: 

"  I  shall  be  disguised  as  a  farmer,  in  gaiters  and 
the  sort  of  clothes  farmers  go  to  market  in  on  Sat- 
urdays; and  I  shall  be  in  the  bar  with  other  men. 
And  one  of  these  men  will  be  a  very  dangerous 
German  secret  agent,  who  has  a  '  wireless '  at  his 
house.  And  when  we've  got  him,  we  shall  go  to 
his  house  and  destroy  the  '  wireless.'  And  now 
you'd  better  be  getting  on,  or  people  will  think  it 
suspicious.  And  you  shall  have  your  money  again 
next  Saturday." 


76  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

So  we  left  him,  and  the  six  shillings  with  him, 
and  I  was  by  no  means  so  pleased  and  excited  about 
it  as  Travers  minor.  Still,  I  was  excited  in  a  way, 
and  hoped  the  following  Saturday  would  be  glori- 
ous; and  Travers  said  it  would  undoubtedly  be  the 
greatest  day  we  had  spent  up  to  that  time. 

We  had  gone  two  hundred  yards,  and  were  won- 
dering what  the  German  would  look  like,  and  if  he'd 
make  a  fight,  when  we  were  much  startled  by  a 
man  who  suddenly  jumped  out  of  the  hedge  and 
stopped  us. 

It  was  a  policeman  in  a  very  excited  frame  of 
mind. 

"  What  did  that  bloke  up  the  road  say  to  you?  " 
he  began;  and  Travers  minor,  remembering  what 
contempt  the  great  spy  had  for  policemen,  was 
rather  haughty. 

"  Our  conversation  was  private,"  he  answered, 
and  the  policeman  seemed  inclined  to  laugh. 

"  I  know  what  your  conversation  was,  very  well," 
he  answered.  "  Soapy  William  wouldn't  tire  him- 
self talking  to  you  kids  for  fun.  Did  you  give  him 
any  money?  " 

In  this  insolent  way  the  policeman  dared  to  talk 
of  Baden-Powell's  brother ! 

"  His  name  is  not  Soapy  William,"  answered 


TRAVERS  MINOR,  SCOUT  77 

Travers,  who  had  turned  red  with  anger,  "  and  he's 
got  no  use  for  policemen,  anyway." 

"  No,  you  take  your  dying  oath  he  hasn't,"  said 
the  policeman.  "  If  he  told  you  that,  he's  broke 
the  record  and  told  you  the  truth.  Did  you  give 
him  money,  or  only  a  fag?  " 

"  We  lent  him  money  for  a  private  purpose,  and 
I'll  thank  you  to  let  us  pass,"  said  Travers  minor. 

But  the  policeman  wouldn't. 

"  He's  as  slippery  as  an  eel,"  he  said,  "  and  I've 
been  waiting  to  cop  him  red-'anded  for  a  fortnight. 
So  now  you'd  better  come  and  overtake  him,  for  he's 
lame  and  can  only  crawl  along.  And  when  I  talk 
to  him,  you'll  be  surprised." 

"  You're  utterly  wrong,"  Travers  minor  told  the 
policeman.  "  You're  quite  on  the  wrong  scent,  and 
if  you  interfere  with  that  man,  you'll  very  likely 
ruin  your  own  career  in  the  Force.  He's  much 
more  powerful  than  you  think." 

But  the  policeman  said  he'd  chance  that,  and 
then,  in  the  name  of  the  law,  he  made  us  come  and 
help  him. 

It  was  a  most  curious  experience.  When  we  got 
there,  the  spy  had  disappeared,  and  the  policeman, 
knowing  that  he  could  only  go  about  one  mile  an 
hour,  said  he  must  be  hidden  somewhere  near. 


78  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

"  And  if  you  chaps  are  any  good  as  scouts,  now's 
your  chance  to  show  it,"  he  said. 

By  this  time  I  began  to  believe  the  policeman,  for 
he  was  a  big  man  and  very  positive  in  his  speech ; 
but  Travers  hated  him,  and  if  he'd  found  the  spy,  I 
believe  he  would  have  said  nothing.  But  I  found 
him,  or,  rather,  I  found  his  boot.  He  had,  no 
doubt,  seen  us  stopped  by  the  policeman,  and  then 
hastened  to  evade  capture.  There  was  a  hay- 
stack in  a  field,  and  he  had  gone  to  it,  and  on  one 
side,  where  it  was  cut  open,  there  was  a  lot  of  loose 
hay,  and  he  had  concealed  himself  with  the  utmost 
cunning,  all  but  one  boot.  This  I  observed  just 
peeping  out  from  a  litter  of  loose  hay,  and  not  feel- 
ing equal  to  making  the  capture  myself,  I  pretended 
I  had  not  seen  the  boot,  and  went  off  and  told  the 
policeman,  who  was  hunting  some  distance  off,  and 
also  eating  blackberries  while  he  hunted. 

He  was  much  pleased  and  hastened  to  make  the 
capture ;  and  when  he  arrived  and  he  saw  the  boot, 
he  said:  "Hullo,  Soapy,  old  pard!  Got  you  this 
time,  my  boy !  " 

Then  the  hay  was  cast  aside,  and  the  great  spy; 
otherwise  known  as  Soapy  William,  rose  up. 

It  was  rather  a  solemn  sight  in  a  way,  for  he  took 


TRAVERS  MINOR,  SCOUT  79 

it  pretty  calmly,  and  said  he'd  been  wanting  a  fort- 
night's rest  for  a  long  time. 

After  the  capture,  the  policeman  seemed  to  lose 
interest  in  Travers  minor  and  me.  In  fact,  he 
didn't  even  thank  us,  but  he  gave  us  back  our 
money,  and  it  was  rather  interesting  to  find  that 
Soapy  William,  besides  our  six  shillings,  had  the 
additional  sum  of  two  and  sevenpence  halfpenny 
also. 

Travers  minor  didn't  speak  one  single  word,  go- 
ing back  to  Merivale,  until  we  were  at  the  gates; 
then  he  said  a  thing  which  showed  how  fearfully 
he  felt  what  had  happened. 

He  said : 

"  It  makes  me  feel  almost  in  despair  about  going 
into  the  Church,  Briggs,  when  there's  such  wicked- 
ness as  that  about." 

And  I  said : 

"  I  should  think  you  would  want  to  go  in  all  the 
more." 

And  afterwards,  w^hen  we  had  changed  and  had 
tea,  and  we  were  in  school,  he  got  calmer  and  ad- 
mitted I  was  right. 

But  he  took  a  gloomier  view  of  human  nature 
afterwards,  and  often,  on  scouting  days,  he  said 


80  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

there  was  more  satisfaction  in  helping  a  beetle 
across  a  road,  or  making  a  snail  safe,  than  there 
was  in  trying  to  be  useful  to  one's  fellow-creatures. 

We  had  to  go  and  give  evidence  against  Soapy 
William  before  a  Justice  of  the  Peace  two  days 
later.  In  fact,  it  was  Sir  Neville  Carew,  who  lived 
at  the  Manor  House,  and  he  seemed  to  be  very 
much  amused  at  our  evidence,  and  almost  inclined 
to  let  Soapy  off.  But  he  gave  him  a  fortnight,  and 
Soapy  said  to  us  as  he  'oped  we'd  let  the  great 
Baden-Powell  know  how  he  was  being  treated ;  and 
everybody  laughed,  including  Brown,  who  had  gone 
to  the  court  with  us. 

But,  after  that.  Dr.  Dunston  cooled  off  to  the 
Boy  Scouts  a  lot;  and  when  the  terrific  adventure 
to  Travers  minor  finally  occurred,  about  three 
weeks  after,  Travers  major  said  it  was  a  Nemesis 
on  old  Dunston ;  and  so  undoubtedly  it  was. 

Though  not  actually  in  it,  I  heard  all  the  par- 
ticulars—  in  fact,  everybody  did,  for  naturally 
Dr.  Dunston  was  the  most  famous  person  in  Meri- 
vale,  and  when  this  remarkable  thing  overtook  him. 
The  Merivale  Weekly  Trumpet  had  a  column  about 
it,  and  everybody  for  miles  round  called  to  see  him 
and  say  how  jolly  glad  they  were  it  wasn't  worse. 

It  was  a  fierce  afternoon,  with  the  leaves  flying 


TRAVERS  MINOR,  SCOUT  81 

and  the  rain  coming  down  in  a  squally  sort  of  way, 
and  Travers  minor  and  I  went  for  a  drill,  and  after 
the  drill  we  scouted  a  bit  on  rather  a  lonely  road 
where  nothing  was  in  the  habit  of  happening. 
But,  as  Travers  truly  said,  the  essence  of  scouting 
is  surprise,  and  because  a  road  is  a  lonely  and  un- 
eventful sort  of  road,  it  doesn't  follow  something 
may  not  happen  unexpectedly  upon  it. 

He  said: 

"  No  doubt  the  roads  in  the  valley  of  the  river 
Aisne,  in  France,  have  been  pretty  lonely  in  their 
time,  but  think  of  them  last  September !  " 

So  we  went,  and  one  motor  passed  us  in  two 
miles ;  and  two  dogs  poaching  together  also  passed, 
and  in  a  field  was  a  sheep  which  had  got  on  its  back 
and  couldn't  get  up  again,  being  too  fat  to  do  so. 
We  pulled  it  up.  In  another  field  was  a  bull,  and 
we  tried  to  attract  it,  and  scouted  down  a  hedge 
within  fifty  yards  of  it,  to  see  if  it  was  dangerous, 
and  warn  people  if  it  was;  and  I  went  to  within 
forty  yards  of  it,  being  a  good  twelve  yards  from  the 
hedge  at  the  time,  but  it  paid  no  attention.  Then, 
just  at  the  end  of  the  road,  we  came  across  an  old 
woman  sitting  by  the  roadside  in  a  very  ragged 
and  forlorn  condition,  with  a  basket  of  watercresses 
and  also  about  twelve  mushrooms. 


82  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

Thinking  she  might  be  lame,  or  otherwise  in  diffi- 
culties, Travers  minor  went  up  to  her  and  said : 

"Good  evening!    D'jou  want  anything?" 

And  she  said : 

"  Yes,  a  plucky  lot  of  things,  but  none  of  your 
cheek." 

"  It  wasn't  meant  for  cheek.  I'm  a  Scout,"  said 
Travers  minor. 

And  she  said: 

"  Oh,  run  along  home  and  ask  mother  to  let  out 
your  knickers,  else  you'll  bust  'em ! " 

Travers  turned  white  with  indignation,  but  such 
was  his  great  idea  of  discipline,  that  he  didn't  tell 
her  she  was  a  drunken  old  beast,  which  she  was, 
but  just  marched  off.  But  he  was  fearfully  upset, 
all  the  same,  and,  instead  of  pouring  out  his  rage 
on  the  horrid  old  woman,  he  poured  it  out  on  me. 
He'd  been  a  bit  queer  all  day,  owing  to  a  row  with 
Brown  over  a  history  lesson,  in  which  Travers 
minor  messed  up  the  story  of  Charles  II ;  and  now, 
what  with  one  thing  and  another,  he  lost  his  usual 
self-control  and  got  very  nasty. 

He  said  scouting  with  another  person  was  no 
good  —  not  w  ith  me,  anyway. 

And  I  said: 

"What  have  I  done?" 


TRAVERS  MINOR,  SCOUT  83 

And  he  said: 

"  You're  such  a  fathead  —  nothing  ever  happens 
when  you're  about !  " 

I  told  him  to  keep  his  temper  and  not  make  a 
silly  ass  of  himself.  I  also  asked  him  what  he 
thought  was  going  to  happen.     I  said : 

"  We  all  know  you're  always  ready  for  anything 
—  from  an  Uhlan  to  a  caterpillar  —  but  it  seems 
to  me  the  essence  of  scouting  is  to  keep  wide  awake 
when  nothing  is  happening,  like  the  fleet  in  the 
North  Sea.  Any  fool  can  do  things;  the  thing  is 
always  to  be  ready  to  do  them,  and  not  get  your 
shirt  out  and  lose  your  nerve  because  there's  noth- 
ing to  do." 

This  good  advice  fairly  settled  Travers  minor. 
He  undoubtedly  lost  his  temper,  as  he  admitted 
afterwards,  and  he  said : 

"When  I  want  you  to  tell  me  my  business, 
Briggs,  I'll  let  you  know." 

And  I  said : 

"  Your  first  business  is  to  keep  your  hair  on, 
whatever  happens." 

And  he  said : 

"  Then  I'll  relieve  you  of  my  company,  Briggs." 

And,  before  I  could  answer,  he  had  got  through 
the  hedge  and  gone  off  over  a  field  which  ran  along 


84  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

a  wood.  I  watched  him  in  silent  amazement,  as 
they  say,  and  he  crossed  the  field  and  entered  the 
wood  and  disappeared. 

This  action  alone  showed  what  a  proper  rage  h^ 
was  in,  because  he  had  gone  into  the  Manor  Woods, 
which  was  not  only  going  out  of  bounds,  but  also 
trespassing  —  two  things  he  never  did.  It  was  a 
fearful  loss  of  nerve,  and  I  stood  quite  still  for  a 
good  minute  after  he  vanished.  Then  my  first  idea 
was  to  go  and  lug  him  back;  but  discretion  was 
always  the  better  part  of  valour  with  me,  and  al- 
ways will  be,  owing  to  my  character;  so  I  left 
Travers  to  his  fate,  and  hoped  he'd  soon  cool  down 
and  come  back  without  meeting  a  keeper.  It  was 
growing  dusk,  too,  and  I  went  back  to  Merivale, 
and  decided  not  to  say  anything  about  Travers 
minor,  except  that,  while  we  were  engaged  in  some 
scouting  operations,  I  had  missed  him. 

I  only  heard  the  amazing  tale  of  his  adventure 
afterwards,  and  though  everybody  had  the  story 
in  some  shape  or  form,  I  got  the  naked  truth  from 
Travers  minor  himself  in  his  own  words.  Next 
morning,  much  to  our  surprise,  it  was  given  out 
that  Dr.  Dunston  was  unwell,  and  Fortescue  read 
prayers ;  and  during  that  event  Travers  told  me  all. 

"  When  I  left  you,"  he  said,  "  I  was  in  a  filthy 


TRAVERS  MINOR,  SCOUT  85 

bate,  and  for  once,  instead  of  not  wanting  to  tres- 
pass and  break  bounds,  I  did  want  to.  And  I  went 
straight  into  the  Manor  Woods,  and  badly  fright- 
ened some  pheasants  that  had  gone  to  roost,  and 
was  immediately  soothed.  They  made  a  fearful 
row,  and  I  thought  a  keeper  would  be  sure  to 
spring  up  from  somewhere,  and  rather  hoped  one 
would,  in  order  to  afford  me  an  opportunity  for  an 
escape.  But  nothing  happened,  and  I  decided  to 
walk  on  till  I  came  to  the  drive,  and  then  boldly 
go  along  out  of  the  lodge-gate.  Well,  I  walked 
through  the  wood  to  the  drive  just  before  it  got 
dark.  I  was  looking  out  cautiously  from  the  edge 
of  the  wood,  to  see  that  all  was  clear,  when  I  ob- 
served a  man  sitting  on  the  edge  of  the  drive.  For 
a  moment  I  thought  it  was  that  wretched  Soapy 
William  again.  He  was  humped  up  and  nursing 
his  foot  which  was  evidently  badly  wounded. 
Then  the  man  gave  a  sound  between  a  sigh  and  a 
groan  and  a  snuffle,  and  I  saw  it  was  Dr.  Dun- 
ston! 

"  Of  course,  it  was  the  moment  of  my  life,  and  I 
felt,  in  a  sort  of  way,  that  my  whole  future  career 
depended  upon  my  next  action.  My  first  instinct, 
remembering  that  Norris  and  Booth  were  both 
flogged  when  caught  here,  was  a  strategic  retreat; 


86  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

but  then  my  duty  as  a  Boy  Scout  occurred  to  me. 
It  was  a  fearful  choice  of  evils,  you  may  say;  for 
If  I  cleared  out,  I  was  disgraced  for  ever,  and  my 
mind  couldn't  have  stood  it,  and  if  I  went  forward, 
I  was  also  disgraced  for  ever,  because  to  be  flogged, 
to  a  chap  with  my  opinions,  is  about  the  limit.  I 
considered  what  should  be  done,  and  while  I  was 
considering,  old  Dunston  groaned  again  and  said 
out  loud: 

"  '  Tut  —  tut !  This  is  indeed  a  tragedy ! ' 
"  That  decided  me,  because  the  question  of  hu- 
manity came  in,  and  looking  on  into  the  future  in 
rather  a  remarkable  way,  I  saw  at  once  that  if  I 
retreated  and  heard  next  morning  that  old  Dr.  Dun- 
ston was  found  dead,  I  should  feel  the  pangs  of  re- 
morse for  evermore,  and  they  would  ruin  my  life. 
I  also  felt  that,  if  I  saved  him,  he  was  hardly  likely 
to  flog  me,  because  there  would  undoubtedly  be  a 
great  feeling  against  him  if  he  did." 

"  You  might  have  done  this,"  I  said.  "  You 
might  have  retreated,  and  then  gone  down  to  the 
lodge  and  told  the  woman  that  there  was  an  in- 
jured man,  in  great  agony,  lying  half-way  up  the 
drive.  You  might  have  given  a  false  name  your- 
self, and  then,  when  the  rescuing  party  started, 
you  might  have  cleared  out  and  so  remained  anony- 


TRAVERS  MINOR,  SCOUT  87 

mous.  It  would  have  gone  down  to  the  credit  of 
the  Boy  Scouts,  and  old  Dunston  would  have  been 
the  first  to  see  that  the  particular  Boy  Scout  in 
question  preferred,  for  private  reasons,  to  keep  his 
identification  a  secret." 

Travers  was  much  impressed  by  this  view. 

"  I  never  thought  of  that,"  he  said.  "  Probably, 
if  I  had,  I  should  have  done  it.  Anyway,  I'm  sorry 
I  swore  at  you  and  called  you  a  fathead,  Briggs. 
You're  not  a  fathead  —  far  from  it." 

He  then  continued  his  surprising  narrative  in 
these  words: 

"Anyway,  I  decided  to  rescue  the  Doctor,  and 
stepped  out  of  ambush  and  said: 

" '  Good  evening,  sir.     I'm  afraid  you're  hurt.' 

"  He  was  evidently  very  glad  to  see  me ;  but  you 
know  his  iron  discipline.     He  kept  it  up  even  then. 

" '  What  boy  are  you?  '  he  asked,  and  I  told  him 
I  was  Travers  minor  from  Merivale. 

"'And  how  comes  it  you  are  here?'  he  asked 
again. 

" '  I  was  operating  in  the  woods  on  my  way  home, 
sir,  and  I  heard  your  cry  of  distress.' 

"  '  We  will  investigate  your  operations  on  another 
occasion,  then,'  said  the  Doctor.  '  For  the  moment 
mine  are  more  important.     I  have  had  a  bad  fall 


88  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

and  am  in  great  pain.  You  had  better  run  as 
quickly  as  possible  to  the  Manor  House,  ask  to  see 
Sir  Neville  Carew,  and  tell  him  that  I  have  met 
with  a  very  severe  accident  half-way  down  his  drive. 
Whether  I  have  broken  my  leg,  or  put  out  my  ankle, 
it  is  not  for  me  to  determine.  I  have  been  drinking 
tea  with  Sir  Neville  and  learning  his  views  as  to 
the  War.  Be  as  quick  as  you  can.  You  will  never 
have  a  better  opportunity  to  display  your  agility.' 

"  Then  I  hooked  it  and  ran  the  half-mile  or  so  to 
the  Manor  House,  sprinting  all  the  way.  I  soon 
gave  the  terrible  news,  and  in  about  ten  minutes 
Sir  Neville  Carew  himself,  with  his  butler  and  his 
footman,  set  off  for  the  Doctor.  And  the  foot- 
man trundled  a  chair  which  ran  on  wheels,  and 
which  Sir  Neville  Carew  kindly  explained  to  me 
he  uses  himself  when  he  gets  an  attack  of  gout, 
which  often  happens,  unfortunately. 

"  He  didn't  ask  me  how  I  discovered  the  acci- 
dent, which  was  naturally  rather  a  good  thing  for 
me;  and  when  we  got  back  to  the  Doctor,  he  told 
me  to  hasten  on  in  advance  and  break  the  evil  tid- 
ings. So  I  cleared  out.  And  I've  heard  no  more 
yet;  but  no  doubt  I  shall  soon." 

That  was  the  great  narrative  of  Travers  minor, 
and  after  morning  school  Brown  gaye  out  that  the 


TRAVERS  MINOR,  SCOUT       89 

Doctor's  ankle  was  very  badly  sprained,  but  that 
things  would  take  their  course  as  usual,  and  a 
bulletin  be  put  up  on  the  notice-board  in  the  eve- 
ning. 

And  it  was,  and  it  said  the  Doctor  was  better. 

Travers  minor  heard  nothing  until  three  days 
later,  when  the  Doctor  appeared  on  a  crutch  and 
read  prayers.  Then  he  had  Travers  up  and  ad- 
dressed the  school.  And  Travers  saw  at  a  glance 
that  Dr.  Dunston  was  still  in  no  condition  to  flog 
him,  even  if  the  will  w^as  there. 

It  ended  brilliantly  for  Travers,  really,  because 
the  Doctor  said  he  had  been  an  instrument  of  Provi- 
dence, and  he  evidently  felt  you  ought  not  to  flog 
an  instrument  of  Providence,  whatever  he's  been 
doing.  He  reproved  Travers  minor  pretty  stiffly, 
all  the  same,  and  said  that  when  he  considered 
what  a  friend  Sir  Neville  Carew  was  to  the  school, 
and  how  much  he  overlooked,  and  so  on,  it  was  in- 
famous that  any  boy  should  even  glance  into  his 
pheasant  preserves,  much  less  actually  go  into 
them.  And  Travers  minor  was  finallv  ordered  to 
spend  a  half-holiday  in  visiting  Sir  Neville  Carew 
and  humbly  apologizing  to  him  for  his  conduct. 
Which  he  did  so,  and  Sir  Neville  Carew,  on  hear- 
ing from  Travers  that  he  would  never  do  it  again  on 


90  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

any  pretext  whatever,  was  frightfully  sporting  and 
forgave  him  freely,  and  talked  about  the  War,  and 
reminded  him  about  Sir  Baden-Powell's  brother, 
and  ended  by  taking  Travers  minor  into  a  glass- 
house full  of  luscious  peaches  and  giving  him  two. 

And  Travers  kept  one  for  me,  because,  he  said, 
if  it  hadn't  been  for  getting  into  a  wax  with  me, 
he  would  never  have  trespassed  and  never  have 
had  the  adventure  at  all. 

And  I  said  it  wasn't  so  much  me  as  that  beast  of 
an  old  woman  who  told  him  his  knickers  were  too 
tight. 

"  In  strict  honesty,"  I  said,  "  she  ought  to  have 
this  peach." 

Then  I  ate  it,  and  never  want  to  eat  a  better. 
In  fact,  I  kept  the  stone  to  plant  when  I  went  home. 


THE  HTJTCHINGS  TESTIMONIAL 

Naturally,  all  Merivale  was  deeply  interested  in 
the  adventures  of  Mr.  Hutcliings  at  the  Front  of 
the  War.  Of  the  three  masters  who  had  instantly 
volunteered,  only  Hutchings  had  actually  gone  to 
the  Front,  being  a  skilled  territorial  and  holding  a 
commission  in  the  Devons ;  but  the  other  two,  Man- 
waring  and  Meadows,  had  to  be  content  with  Kitch- 
ener's Army,  because  they  were  ignorant  of  the 
subject  of  warfare  and  had  to  begin  at  the  begin- 
ning. Of  course,  Fortescue  would  have  proudly 
gone,  as  his  splendid  poems  on  the  war  and  his  gen- 
eral valiant  feelings  showed,  and  we  were  very  sorry 
we  had  misunderstood  him;  but  his  aorta  being  a 
bit  off  quite  prevented  him  doing  anything  except 
write  splendid  poems  urging  everybody  else  to  go; 
and  no  doubt  many  did  go  because  of  them.  As 
for  Brown,  he  was  five  feet  nothing,  or  thereabouts, 
and  so  he  wasn't  wanted,  and  I  believe  in  secret  he 
thanked  God  for  it,  though  in  public  he  said  it  was 
the  bitterest  blow  of  his  life.  And  Rice,  who 
doesn't  fear  Brown,  asked  him  why  he  didn't  join 

91 


92  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

a  Ghurka  regiment ;  and  Brown  said  nothing  would 
have  given  him  greater  pleasure,  only,  unfortu- 
nately, owing  to  caste,  and  religion,  and  one  thing 
and  another,  it  was  out  of  the  question.  He  ap- 
peared to  bar  the  bantam  regiment  also,  probably 
not  so  much  as  the  bantam  regiment  would  have 
barred  him. 

So  you  may  say  Merivale  only  had  one  man  at 
the  positive  Front,  though  Jenny  Dunston,  the 
Doctor's  youngest  daughter  but  two,  was  engaged 
to  a  man  in  the  Welsh  Fusiliers,  and  he  was  there, 
and  Abbott's  father  was  also  there.  They  were, 
of  course,  nothing  to  us,  though  no  doubt  a  good 
deal  to  Jenny  Dunston  and  Abbott's  mother;  but 
all  our  excitement  centred  on  Hutchings,  who  was 
a  lieutenant,  and  was  often  believed  to  do  the  work 
of  a  captain  when  actually  under  fire.  He  occa- 
sionally sent  a  postcard  to  Fortescue,  saying  that 
all  was  well,  and  I  believe  Fortescue  also  got  a 
letter  with  pieces  censored  out  of  it ;  but  he  did  not 
show  it  to  us,  though  he  told  Travers  minor  and 
Briggs  that  it  was  anxious  work.  This  was  when 
the  British  Expedition  was  falling  back,  much  to 
its  regret.  But  soon  the  time  came  when  they  got 
going  forward  again,  and  then  Fortescue  bucked  up 
and,   I   believe,   wrote   his  best  poetry.     In   fact, 


THE  HUTCHINGS  TESTIMONIAL         93 

Fortescue  really  was  a  sort  of  weather-glass  of  the 
War,  if  you  understand  me,  and  chaps  in  his  class 
said  that,  after  a  reverse,  you  could  do  simply 
anything  with  him,  and  he  didn't  seem  to  have  the 
slightest  interest  in  work,  and  didn't  care  if  you 
were  right  or  wrong.  And  in  a  way  it  was  equally 
all  right  for  his  class  after  a  victory,  for  then  he 
was  so  hopeful  and  pleased  that  he  never  came 
down  on  anybody.  So  we  hadn't  got  to  read  the 
papers,  because,  after  seeing  Fortescue  in  the  morn- 
ing, we  always  knew  the  general  hang  of  the  War. 
In  fact,  Mitchell,  who  was  a  cunning  student  of 
other  people's  characters,  though  his  own  was 
beastly,  said  that  you  had  only  got  to  look  at 
Fortescue's  neck  to  know  how  it  was  going  at  the 
Front.  If  his  head  was  hanging  over  his  chest,  it 
was  certain  the  Allies  had  had  a  nasty  knock ;  and 
if  it  was  just  about  normal,  you  knew  nothing  had 
happened  to  matter  either  way;  and  if  it  was 
thrown  up  and  straight,  and  Fortescue's  eyes  were 
bright  behind  his  glasses,  then  you  knew  that  we 
had  scored,  or  else  the  French  or  Russians  had. 
Then  a  little  child  could  lead  Fortescue,  as  Mitchell 
said. 

And  at  last  came  Hill  No.  60,  and  the  fearfully 
sad  news  that  Hutchings  was  dead  or  wounded; 


94.  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

and  many  of  us  would  have  given  a  week's  pocket- 
money  to  know  which.  Then  came  the  good  news 
under  the  Roll  of  Honour  that  he  was  only 
wounded,  and  after  that,  many  of  us  would  have 
given  a  week's  pocket-money  to  know  where.  Pres- 
ently we  heard  from  Dr.  Dunston  that  he  was  in 
Paris;  and  then  we  heard  that  he  was  coming  to 
England  and  going  to  the  private  house  of  some 
very  sporting  rich  people  who  had  turned  their 
mansion  into  a  hospital  for  wounded  officers. 

Then  Fortescue  heard  from  Hutchings,  and  most 
kindly  gave  us  the  information  that  he  had  been 
wounded  in  two  places  —  the  shoulder  and  the  calf 
of  the  right  leg.  And  we  were  thankful  that  it  was 
no  worse. 

We  were  allowed  to  write  to  Hutchings,  and 
Barrington,  who  was  head  boy  now  that  Travers 
major  had  left,  composed  a  letter,  and  everybody 
signed  it.  And  I  hope  he  liked  it.  But  then  came 
the  great  idea  of  a  presentation  to  Hutchings.  I 
am  Blades,  and  it  was  my  idea,  though  afterwards 
Sutherland  and  Thwaites  claimed  it.  But  I  prom- 
ise you  it  was  mine,  and  we  had  a  meeting  in 
chapel  one  night  before  prep.,  at  which  Barring- 
ton  proposed  and  I  seconded  the  great  thought  that 


THE  HUTCHINGS  TESTIMONIAL         95 

we  should  make  a  collection  of  money  for  a  me- 
morial to  Hutchings. 

Barrington  said : 

"  We  are  met  together  for  a  good  object,  namely, 
to  collect  money  for  a  valuable  memorial  of  his 
bravery  in  the  War  for  Mr.  Hutchings,  or  I  should 
say  Lieutenant  Hutchings.  Everybody  here  — 
even  his  own  class  —  likes  him ;  and  the  new  boys, 
who  do  not  know  him,  would  equally  like  him  if 
they  did.  No  doubt  there  will  be  a  very  fine  medal 
of  Hill  No.  60  struck  and  presented  to  our  troops 
who  were  in  that  terrific  battle,  and  no  doubt 
Lieutenant  Hutchings  will  get  it ;  but  it  often  takes 
years  and  years  before  war  medals  are  struck  and 
presented  to  the  heroes  of  a  battle,  and  I  have 
heard  that  some  of  the  medals  from  the  Battle  of 
Waterloo  are  still  hanging  fire ;  and  many  ought  to 
have  had  them  who  died  a  natural  death  long  be- 
fore they  were  sent  out.  So  I  propose  that  we  make 
a  collection  for  Mr.  Hutchings  and  present  him  witli 
a  valuable  object  before  he  goes  back  to  the  War, 
because,  if  we  leave  it  till  afterwards,  it  may  be  too 
late." 

And  I  said : 

"  I  beg  to  second  the  excellent  speech  we  have 


96  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

just  heard,  and  if  anybody  is  of  a  different  opinion, 
let  him  say  so." 

It  was  carried. 

Then  Barrington  said  we  must  have  a  committee 
of  management,  with  a  secretary  and  treasurer, 
and  it  was  done. 

The  committee  consisted  of  me  and  Barrington 
and  Sutherland  and  Thwaites ;  and  Rice,  who  would 
not  have  been  on  such  an  important  thing  in  the 
ordinary  way,  was  proposed,  because  he  was  enor- 
mously popular  and  would  be  able  to  persuade 
many  to  subscribe  who  would  not  otherwise  do  so 
without  great  pressure.  That  only  left  the  treas- 
urer, and  well  knowing  Mitchell's  financial  skill 
and  mastery  of  arithmetic  in  general,  I  proposed 
him.  Some  chaps,  who  owed  Mitchell  money,  were 
rather  shy  of  voting  for  him ;  but  finally  they  de- 
cided it  was  better  to  have  him  for  a  friend  than 
an  enemy,  and  so  they  voted  in  his  favour.  I  my- 
self owed  Mitchell  three  shillings,  for  which  I  was 
paying  twopence  a  week,  which  was  a  fair  interest. 
And  personally  I  always  found  him  honourable, 
though  firm. 

Anyway,  he  was  made  treasurer,  and  he  said  the 
subscription  lists  must  be  posted  in  a  public  place, 
because  in  these  cases  people  liked  to  see  their 


THE  HUTCHINGS  TESTIMONIAL         97 

names  where  other  people  would  also  see  them,  and 
that  publicity  was  the  backbone  of  philanthropy. 

We  left  it  with  him,  as  he  thoroughly  understood 
that  branch  of  the  testimonial,  and  meanwhile  from 
time  to  time  the  committee  met  to  consider  what 
ought  to  be  bought.  And  we  differed  a  good  deal 
on  the  subject.  I  thought,  as  Hutchings  would  cer- 
tainly go  back  to  the  War  when  he  was  well,  we 
ought  to  buy  him  a  complete  outfit  of  comforts,  in- 
cluding blankets,  tobacco  —  of  which  he  was  very 
fond  —  a  Thermos  flask,  a  wool  helmet,  day  socks, 
night  socks,  a  mouth-guard  to  keep  out  German 
stinks,  and,  in  fact,  everything  to  help  him  through 
the  misery  of  warfare,  including  a  filter  for  drink- 
ing water.  And  Sutherland  was  rather  inclined 
to  agree  with  me,  but  the  others  were  not. 

Thwaites  said: 

"  My  dear  Blades,  you  talk  as  if  you  were  his 
grandmother.  No  doubt  he's  got  women  relations 
to  look  after  paltry  things  like  that;  but  a  testi- 
monial rises  to  a  much  higher  plane,  in  my  opin- 
ion. It  ought  to  be  something  that  will  last  for 
ever  and  not  wear  out  and  be  forgotten." 

And  Rice  said : 

"  Get  the  man  a  revolver." 

And  Barrington  said : 


98  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

"  He's  got  one." 

And  Rice  said: 

"  Of  course  he  has.  And  if  we  get  him  another, 
then  he'd  have  two,  and  that  means  six  less  Ger- 
mans some  day,  very  likely." 

But  Barrington  didn't  approve. 

"  We  want  a  testimonial  that  has  nothing  to  do 
with  actual  battle,"  he  said.  "  The  War  won't  last 
for  ever,  and  we  ought  to  buy  something  useful, 
and  also  ornamental,  that  Hutchings  will  be  able 
to  employ  in  everyday  life  when  all  is  over.  We 
want  something  that  will  catch  his  eye  a  hundred 
times  a  day  and  pleasantly  remind  him  and  his 
family  of  his  heroic  past  —  and  us." 

"  An  heirloom,  in  fact,"  said  Thwaites. 

But  I  argued  that  practical  comforts  at  the 
critical  moment  would  be  far  better  than  an  heir- 
loom for  future  use,  because  if  he  didn't  have  the 
mouth-guard  and  filter  and  so  on,  he  might  die; 
and  where  would  the  heirloom  come  in  then? 

I  said: 

"  What's  the  good  of  knowing  you've  got  a  silver 
ink-pot,  or  a  tea-kettle,  or  a  cellaret  full  of  whisky 
at  home,  when  you're  perishing  for  a  wholesome 
drink  on  the  field?" 

And  Barrington  said  that  was  petty,  and  so  did 


THE  HUTCHINGS  TESTIMONIAL         99 

Thwaites.  They  seemed  to  think  that  the  remem- 
brance of  our  testimonial  safe  at  home  would  carry 
Hutchings  safely  through  all  the  horrors  of  the 
campaign. 

It  turned  out  that  I  had  rather  touched  up  Bar- 
rington,  for  he  had  actually  been  thinking  about 
a  silver  ink-pot,  and  Thwaites  had  been  thinking 
about  a  cellaret  with  three  bottles  of  various 
spirits;  but  I  told  them  flatly  I  didn't  agree  with 
them.  Then  they  asked  Sutherland  his  idea,  and 
he  said  it  wasn't  so  much  what  we  should  like  as 
what  Hutchings  would. 

He  said: 

"  Perhaps  a  very  fine  meerschaum  pipe,  mounted 
in  silver  with  an  inscription,  would  do,  because 
there  you  have  a  creature  comfort  of  the  first  class 
and  also  a  testimonial  which  would  not  wear  out. 
And  a  pipe  would  be  far  more  to  Hutchings,  either 
in  war  or  peace,  than  an  ink-pot,  or,  in  fact,  any- 
thing of  that  sort." 

And  Rice  said: 

"Why  not  get  the  man  a  sword?  He  could  use 
it  in  the  War,  and,  if  all  went  well,  he  could  hang 
it  up  in  his  home  afterwards ;  and  if  there  was  blood 
on  it,  then  he'd  have  great  additional  pleasure  every 
time  he  looked  at  it.     And  so  would  his  family." 


100     THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

Barrington  rather  liked  the  sword;  but  he  said 
classy  swords  were  frightfully  expensive,  and  he 
doubted  whether  we  should  run  to  it.  Then  the 
committee  broke  up,  to  meet  again  when  we  found 
how  the  subscriptions  came  in. 

Unfortunately,  this  department  of  the  testi- 
monial was  very  slow.  Mitchell,  with  great 
trouble,  wrote  out  a  list  of  the  whole  school,  and 
was  allowed  to  put  it  on  the  notice-board.  Class 
by  class  he  wrote  it  —  one  hundred  and  thirty -two 
boys  he  wrote — with  money  columns  and  a  line 
leading  from  each  boy  to  the  money  column.  On 
it,  in  large  ornamental  letters,  Nicholson,  who  was 
a  dab  at  printing,  put  the  words  — 

Testimonial  Fund  to  Lieutenant 

HUTCHINGS,   FROM    MeRIVALE   SCHOOL. 

Then  we  all  waited  breathlessly  for  the  result  in 
the  money  column.  There  was  some  delay,  because 
everybody,  of  course,  wrote  home  on  the  subject  and 
mentioned  it  in  the  next  Sunday's  letters;  and  we 
pointed  out  to  the  kids  that  a  good  and  useful  thing 
to  write  home  about,  and  something  at  least  to  fill 
two  pages,  would  be  the  Hutchings  testimonial. 
Whether  they  made  the  appeal  or  not,  of  course, 
none  could  tell,  but  if  they  did,  the  response  was 


THE  HUTCHINGS  TESTIMONIAL        101 

fearfully  feeble.  When  questioned,  they  said  that 
their  people  at  home  had  done  such  a  frightful  lot 
for  the  War  already  that  further  cash  for  Hutch- 
ings  was  out  of  the  question;  while  other  parents 
wrote  back,  not  that  they  had  done  much  for  the 
War,  but  that  the  War  had  done  much  for  them  in 
a  very  unfavourable  manner.  The  result  was  ap- 
parently the  same  in  each  case,  and  the  Lower 
School,  all  except  Peterson  in  the  Third,  responded 
very  badly  to  the  appeal.  He  produced  ten  bob, 
much  to  our  amazement,  and  there  was  one  other 
ten  bob,  secured  by  Abbott  through  his  mother,  be- 
cause his  father  was  at  the  Front  and  still  un- 
wounded.  As  for  the  Sixth,  who  headed  the  list, 
we  all  gave  three  bob  to  a  man,  except  Barrington, 
who  gave  five.  The  Fifth  came  out  at  about  one 
and  tenpence  a  head,  which  was  fair,  without  being 
particularly  dazzling;  but  the  Fourth  fell  away  a 
good  deal.  And  after  that  there  was  a  hideous  ar- 
ray of  blanks. 

Mitchell  said  it  was  probably  owing  to  the  utter 
failure  of  the  dividends  of  the  parents  of  the  Lower 
School;  and  as  we  could  not  apparently  make 
bricks  without  straw,  we  considered  how  to  tackle 
the  Lower  School.  There  is  no  doubt  the  failure 
was  genuine,  for  many  of  them  had  even  their 


102  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

pocket-money  reduced ;  so  Pegram  —  who  had  only 
subscribed  a  shilling  himself,  by  the  way  —  pro- 
posed that  the  kids  should  be  invited  to  give  prop- 
erty instead  of  cash. 
,     He  said: 

"  If  they  all  yield  up  something  they  value,  we 
can  collect  the  goods  in  a  mass  and  have  a  sale,  and 
the  proceeds  of  the  sale  can  go  to  the  Hutchings 
Testimonial." 

The  committee  approved  of  this,  excepting 
Thwaites,  who  thought  nothing  of  it;  but  when 
asked  to  give  his  objections,  he  merely  said : 

"  Wait  and  see." 

Which  we  did  do,  and  found  that  Thwaites  was 
wonderfully  right,  and  had  looked  on  ahead  much 
farther  than  us.  The  kids  agreed  willingly  to  sub- 
scribe in  goods,  and  were  only  too  delighted  to  do 
so ;  but  when  it  came  to  the  point,  the  goods  of  the 
kids  proved  utterly  worthless  in  the  open  market. 
It  was  a  revelation,  in  a  sort  of  a  way,  to  see 
the  things  the  kids  valued  and  honestly  thought 
were  worth  money.  In  fact,  Preston  said  it  was 
pathetic,  and  Pegram  said  we  had  a  good  founda- 
tion for  a  rubbish  heap,  but  nothing  more.  They 
brought  string  and  screws  and  nails,  also  the  glass 
marbles  from  a  certain  make  of  ginger-beer  bottle, 


THE  HUTCHINGS  TESTIMONIAL       103 

and  knives  fearfully  out  of  order,  and  corkscrews, 
and  padlocks  without  keys,  and  a  few  threadbare 
story  books,  and  three  copies  of  Hymns  Ancient 
and  Modern,  and  two  old  horseshoes,  and  catapults 
and  bullets  and  shot  and  charms.  They  also 
brought  three  steel  watch-chains  and  one  leather 
one;  and  Percy  Minimus  offered  a  watch-chain 
made  from  his  mother's  hair,  so  he  said;  but  no- 
body bid  for  it,  naturally,  for  who  on  earth  wants 
a  watch-chain  made  out  of  somebody  else's  mother's 
hair?  There  was  also  a  bottle  imp,  fourteen  india- 
rubber  balls  and  seven  golf  balls  —  all  worn  out  — 
two  kids'  cricket  bats  unspliced,  three  pairs  of  tan 
gloves  —  new  but  small  —  and  one  pair  of  wool 
ones,  eight  neckties,  not  new,  and  a  silk  handker- 
chief, given  to  Tudor  in  case  he  had  a  cold  in  his 
head,  but  not  required  up  till  now,  and  therefore 
new.  Among  other  items  was  half  a  packet  of 
Sanatogen,  also  from  Tudor,  a  box  of  chocolate 
cigarettes,  several  conjuring  tricks,  mostly  out  of 
order,  and  three  guinea-pigs  alive.  Of  other  live 
things  were  included  a  white  rat,  with  pink  eyes 
and  a  hairless,  pinkish  tail,  and  a  dormouse,  which 
Mathers  said  was  hibernating,  though  Mitchell 
thought  was  dead.  It  proved  alive,  on  applying 
warmth,  and  fetched  fivepence.     Lastly,  there  was 


104     THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

a  chrysalis,  into  which  a  remarkable  caterpillar, 
found  by  Hastings  on  the  twenty-first  of  last  Sep- 
tember, had  turned ;  and  as  nobody  knew  the  species 
of  moth  to  be  presently  produced  by  it,  Hastings 
thought  it  worth  money,  and  put  a  reserve  of  two- 
pence on  it.  But  the  chrysalis  was  long  overdue, 
and  so  it  did  not  reach  the  reserve;  and  so  Has- 
tings, who  was  still  hopeful,  bought  it  back  for  that 
sum.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  it  never  turned  into  any- 
thing, and  was  found  to  be  quite  hollow  when  ex- 
amined. 

There  was  a  good  deal  of  other  trash  hardly 
worth  mentioning,  and  many  lots  at  the  sale  did 
not  produce  any  offer  at  all,  let  alone  competition ; 
and  the  owners  of  these  lots  thankfully  got  them 
back  again,  though,  of  course,  sorry  that  they  com- 
manded no  market  value.  And  some  kids  were 
much  surprised  to  find  their  rubbish  had  no  value 
at  all  in  the  eyes  of  the  larger  world,  so  to  speak. 

One  way  and  another,  the  sale  realized  eight 
shillings  and  fourpence,  chiefly  owing  to  the  gener- 
osity of  Rice,  who  gave  the  absurd  sum  of  two  shil- 
lings for  the  guinea-pigs,  which  were  not  even  the 
chrysanthemum  variety  of  pig,  with  wild  and 
tousled  hair,  but  just  sleek,   ordinary  pigs,  and 


THE  HUTCHINGS  TESTIMONIAL       105 

known  to  be  far  past  their  prime.     One,  in  fact,  had 
a  bald  head. 

The  Hutchings  Testimonial  now  stood  at  four 
pounds  fourteen  shillings  and  sevenpence;  and 
thanks  to  a  windfall  in  the  shape  of  five  shillings 
from  Cornwallis,  who  had  a  birthday  and  got  a 
pound  for  it,  we  were  now  practically  up  to  a  fiver. 
In  fact,  I  myself  flung  in  the  fivepence.  But  we 
were  far  from  satisfied,  for,  as  Mitchell  with  his 
mathematical  mind  pointed  out,  five  pounds  spread 
over  one  hundred  and  thirty-two  boys  amounts  to 
the  rather  contemptible  smallness  of  ninepence  and 
one-eleventh  a  boy.  We  raised  the  question  of  in- 
viting the  masters  to  come  in,  from  Dr.  Dunston 
downwards,  and  some  fondly  thought  that  Dun- 
ston would  very  likely  give  another  five  pounds  to 
double  ours ;  but  Barrington  said  he  had  reason  to 
fear  this  would  not  happen,  because,  from  rumours 
dropped  between  Brown  and  Fortescue,  which  he 
had  accidentally  overheard  while  working  in  For- 
tescue's  study,  he  believed  that  a  good  many  parents 
were  putting  the  moratorium  in  force  on  the  Doc- 
tor; and  Fortescue  seemed  to  think  that  it  was 
quite  within  human  possibility  that  the  Doctor 
might  put  the  moratorium  in  force  on  him  and 


106     THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

Brown,  with  very  grave  results  to  their  financial 
position.  But  Brown  said  the  moratorium  was 
over  long  ago,  and  could  not  be  revived  against 
them. 

Then  two  things  of  considerable  importance  hap- 
pened on  the  subject  of  the  Hutchings  Testimonial. 
Firstly,  we  heard  that  Hutchings  might  come  to 
Merivale  for  a  week  or  so  before  returning  to  his 
regiment;  and,  secondly,  Mitchell  made  a  very  in- 
teresting offer  concerning  the  five  pounds  now  de- 
posited with  him.  He  said,  very  truly,  that  money 
breeds  money  in  skilled  hands,  and  that  no  finan- 
cier worthy  of  the  name  ever  lets  his  talent  lie  hid 
in  a  napkin,  but  far  from  it.  He  said  to  the  com- 
mittee : 

"  It's  like  this.  We  are  now  a  fortnight  from 
the  holidays,  and  the  holidays  will  be  five  weeks 
long.  Five  and  two  are  seven,  therefore  it  follows 
that  for  seven  weeks  this  five  pounds  is  doing  noth- 
ing whatever.  This  would  be  untrue  to  the  science 
of  political  economy  and  banking.  Therefore  I 
propose  that  I  send  the  five  pounds  to  my  father 
and  ask  him  to  invest  it  in  his  business.  My  father, 
John  Septimus  Mitchell,  Esquire,  is  a  member  of 
the  Stock  Exchange  of  London,  and  would,  no 
doubt,  very  easily  turn  our  five  pounds  into  six,  or 


THE  HUTCHINGS  TESTIMONIAL        107 

even  seven,  in  the  course  of  seven  weeks.  This 
would  greatly  increase  the  power  of  the  committee 
and  the  extent  of  the  testimonial  for  Hutchings. 
And  then,  at  the  beginning  of  next  term,  we  shall 
be  able  to  buy  and  present  the  testimonial  in  person 
to  Hutchings." 

Well,  knowing  Mitchell,  it  was  rather  a  delicate 
question  in  a  way;  but  what  he  said  was  sound 
finance,  as  Barrington  admitted,  and  Barrington 
himself  felt  thoroughly  inclined  to  trust  Mitchell. 
We  went  into  a  sort  of  private  committee,  after 
Mitchell  had  gone,  and  though  I  and  Thwaites 
voted  against,  the  majority  was  in  favour  of  agree- 
ing to  the  suggestion  of  Mitchell.  Therefore  it  was 
done. 

Then  Mitchell  sent  the  five  pounds  to  his  father, 
and  gave  us  the  cheering  news  that  his  father  had 
received  it  and  agreed  to  invest  it  at  interest ;  and 
Mitchell  handed  Barrington  a  document  from  his 
father  to  show  all  was  being  rightly  managed  on 
the  Stock  Exchange  about  it.  And  Barrington 
kept  the  document  carefully,  as  it  was  legal,  and 
had  a  penny  stamp  on  it. 

We  next  returned  to  the  question  of  the  testi- 
monial itself,  and  still  could  not  agree  about  it, 
though  we  were  now  able  to  argue  on  the  basis  of 


108     THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

seven  pounds  instead  of  five.  We  had  agreed  about 
a  sword,  but  unfortunately  found,  on  inquiries,  that 
a  sword  worthy  to  be  called  a  presentation  sword 
would  cost  about  fifty  pounds,  and  ought  to  have  ru- 
bies and  emeralds  in  the  handle,  which  was,  of 
course,  out  of  the  question.  Many  things  were  sug- 
gested, but  none,  somehow,  met  the  case,  and  we 
fairly  kicked  ourselves  to  think  that  a  committee 
like  us  were  such  a  lot  of  fatheads.  And,  of  course, 
dozens  of  the  chaps  asked  us  about  it,  and  were 
rather  surprised  we  couldn't  think  of  the  right 
thing.  Proposals  were  showered  in,  but  all  to  no 
purpose,  and  the  end  of  the  term  actually  arrived 
without  anything  being  settled.  It  was  then  agreed 
that  we  should  all  think  hard  about  the  form  of  the 
testimonial  during  the  holidays,  and  Barrington 
hoped  that  events  at  the  Front  might  develop  and 
help  us  to  hit  on  a  happy  idea.  And  we  all  hoped 
so,  too.  As  for  Mitchell,  he  said  that  he  thought 
very  likely  Hutchings  would  rather  have  the  money 
than  anything  else;  but  that  was,  of  course,  what 
Mitchell  himself  would  rather  have  had,  though  far 
below  the  mind  of  a  patriotic  man  like  Hutchings. 
And  Thwaites  said  rather  scornfully  to  Mitchell 
that  no  doubt  he  would  rather  have  money  than  an 
heirloom  to  hand  down  to  the  future  generations; 


THE  HUTCHINGS  TESTIMONIAL        109 

and  Mitchell  said  that  he  undoubtedly  would,  be- 
cause money  was  out  and  away  the  best  possible 
sort  of  heirloom,  and  everybody  knew  it  at  heart, 
even  though  they  might  pretend  different. 

Then  the  holidays  took  place,  and  the  prizes 
were  decidedly  skimpy,  which  was  a  disappoint- 
ment to  those  who  got  them  and  a  comfort  to  those 
who  didn't.  Nothing  of  any  consequence  occurred 
to  me  during  the  holidays,  and  I  had  no  idea  for 
Hutchings  worth  mentioning;  and  when  we  all  re- 
turned, we  found  the  committee  as  a  whole  were  in 
the  same  position  as  before.  There  were  many 
suggestions  made,  certainly,  but  none  that  pleased 
the  entire  committee.  Then  a  dreadful  thing  upset 
the  situation,  and  for  three  days  the  darkness  of 
returning  to  school  was  made  darker  still  by  a  sen- 
sational rumour.  Mitchell  did  not  turn  up  on  the 
appointed  afternoon,  and  it  was  whispered  that  he 
wasn't  coming  back  at  all !  Presently  the  whisper 
grew  into  a  regular  roar,  so  to  speak,  and  Brown 
announced  the  tremendous  news  that  Mitchell  had 
left  altogether,  and  might  be  going  straight  into  his 
father's  business  of  being  a  stockbroker  on  the 
Stock  Exchange,  London. 

To  add  to  this,  Hutchings  was  now  staying  at 
Merivale  with  the  Doctor  for  a  few  days  before  go- 


110     THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

ing  back  to  the  War,  and  he  had  already  heard 
about  the  testimonial,  and  was  undoubtedly  in  a 
great  state  of  excitement  about  it.  His  wounds 
had  taken  an  unexpectedly  long  time  to  heal,  but 
he  was  now  quite  ready  for  renewed  activity  at  the 
Front,  and  was,  in  fact,  going  back  on  the  following 
Friday  with  other  healed,  heroic  men. 

Our  position  had  now  become  extremely  grave, 
and  we  held  a  committee  meeting  instantly,  and 
Thwaites  and  I  were  in  the  position  of  the  late 
Lord  Roberts  when  he  clamoured  for  an  army  and 
couldn't  get  one,  because  we  had  strongly  advised 
that  Mitchell  should  not  be  allowed  to  send  the 
money  to  his  father;  but  the  committee  had  out- 
voted us.  I  was  dignified  myself,  and  did  not  re- 
mind the  committee  of  my  views ;  but  Thwaites  did, 
and  there  was  a  good  deal  of  bitterness  in  the  re- 
marks of  the  committee,  till  Barrington  reminded 
us  of  the  legal  document  which  we  had  preserved 
with  such  care.  He  said  that  he  was  not  in  the 
least  alarmed,  and  felt  sure  that,  whatever  Mitchell 
might  be,  the  father  of  Mitchell  was  a  man  of 
honour,  and  would  not  risk  his  position  on  the 
Stock  Exchange  of  London  for  a  paltry  seven 
pounds. 

So  we  wrote  to  the  address  on  the  legal  document, 


THE  HUTCHINGS  TESTIMONIAL       111 

stating  the  case  and  saying  politely,  but  firmly, 
that  we  expected  the  seven  pounds  by  return  of 
post.  We  added  that  we  trusted  Mitchell's  father 
implicitly,  and  that  as  the  matter  was  very  urgent, 
owing  to  Mr.  Hutchings  being  just  off  again  to  the 
Front,  we  hoped  that  he  would  be  so  good  as  to  give 
it  his  personal  attention  the  moment  he  received 
our  letter.  This  we  all  signed,  to  show  how  many 
people  were  interested  and  that  it  was  a  serious 
affair. 

For  three  very  trying  days  we  heard  nothing, 
and  the  school  was  in  a  fair  uproar,  and  the  com- 
mittee got  itself  very  much  disliked.  Then,  when 
we  had  decided  to  put  the  matter  into  the  hands  of 
Dr.  Dunston,  Mitchell  himself  wrote  to  me  and  sent 
a  cheque  signed  by  his  father.  But  it  was  not  for 
seven  pounds,  I  regret  to  say.  In  fact,  it  was  not 
even  for  six.  His  wretched  father  had  merely  sent 
us  back  our  five  pounds  with  sevenpence  added! 
Mitchell  explained  that  we  had  received  four  per 
cent,  for  our  money,  and  that  he  was  sorry  nothing 
better  could  be  done  for  the  moment,  owing  to  the 
Stock  Exchange  being  very  much  upset  by  the  War. 
And  he  asked  us  for  a  stamped  receipt  for  the 
money,  which  we  sent  him  in  very  satirical 
language,  and  said  that  no  doubt  his  father  had 


112  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

made  the  two  pounds  himself.  And  we  promised 
faithfully  that  when  we  grew  up  and  had  dealings 
on  the  Stock  Exchange  of  London,  they  wouldn't 
be  with  Mitchell  and  his  father.  Barrington,  by 
the  way,  wouldn't  sign  this  piece  of  satire,  which 
was  invented  by  Tracey.  All  the  same,  we  sent  it, 
but  Mitchell  never  answered  it,  and  soon  after- 
wards he  turned  up  again,  having  merely  been  ill 
and  not  going  to  leave  at  all.  Hutchings  was  going 
on  the  following  Friday  and  something  had  to  be 
done  at  once.  The  committee,  which  was  now 
fairly  sick  of  the  sight  of  one  another,  met  again  — 
for  the  last  time,  I'm  glad  to  say  —  and  the  ques- 
tion being  acute,  as  Thwaites  said,  we  proposed  and 
seconded  that  a  master,  or  two,  should  be  invited 
to  help  us  with  ideas.  Then  I  thought  of  some- 
thing still  better,  and  suggested  that  we  should 
simply  and  straightforwardly  go  to  Hutchings 
himself  and  ask  him  what  he  most  wanted  in  the 
nature  of  an  heirloom  that  could  be  got  for  five 
pounds  and  sevenpence;  and  everybody  gladly  sec- 
onded this  idea,  though,  of  course,  it  was  not  so 
impressive  as  making  a  presentation  with  a  few 
dignified  words  and  the  whole  school  present,  as  we 
had  meant  to  do. 

However,  we  went  to  Hutchings,  and  he  was 


THE  HUTCHINGS  TESTIMONIAL        113 

much  pleased,  and  said  it  was  ripping  of  us  all,  and 
promised,  the  morning  before  he  went,  to  try  and 
get  us  a  half-holiday  as  a  memory  of  him.  This 
was  good,  but  still  better  was  the  great  ease  with 
which  Hutchings  decided  what  he  wanted.  He 
said: 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do.  On  my  way  through 
London  to  Dover  I'll  buy  a  pair  of  field-glasses,  and 
I'll  have  inscribed  somewhere  on  them  — 

*To  Lieutenant  T.  Hutchings, 

From  Merivale  School.'  " 

We  agreed  gladly  to  this,  and  so  did  everybody, 
and  several  chaps,  who  had  suggested  this  very 
thing  and  been  turned  down,  reminded  us  after- 
wards. 

At  any  rate,  Hutchings  got  them,  and  wrote  to 
Barringtou,  from  a  direction  he  couldn't  name,  to 
say  he'd  got  them,  inscribed  and  all,  and  that  they 
were  splendid  glasses,  and  that  we  might  picture 
him  often  using  them  on  the  field,  to  mark  the  ene- 
my's position  or  sweep  the  sky  for  aeroplanes; 
which  was  very  agreeable  to  us  to  hear,  and  showed 
all  our  trouble  was  by  no  means  in  vain.  And,  in 
return,  we  wTote  to  Hutchings  and  told  him  we  were 
very  pleased  to  know  about  the  glasses,  and  were 


114.  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

glad  to  inform  him  that  we  had  got  the  half-holi- 
day, and  that  though  it  unfortunately  poured  with- 
out ceasing  all  the  time,  it  was  quite  successful  in 
every  other  way. 


THE  FIGHT 

My  name  is  Eice,  and  there  was  only  one  thing  I 
hated  about  the  War,  and  even  that  I  had  to  stop 
hating,  because  of  England.  My  first  feeling  was 
the  War  had  come  too  soon,  and  that  if  it  had  only 
been  four  years  later,  I  should  have  been  there. 
But,  saying  this  to  Tracey,  he  pointed  out  that, 
from  England's  point  of  view,  it  was  lucky  the 
War  had  come  when  it  did,  because  every  year  was 
making  the  Germans  stronger,  while  we  went  gaily 
down  the  hill  reducing  our  Navy  and  our  Army  too. 
So  it  was  a  jolly  good  thing  the  Great  War  hadn't 
waited  till  I  went  into  the  Army.  In  fact,  in  four 
years,  by  all  accounts,  there  mightn't  have  been  any 
army  to  go  into. 

"  No  doubt  you'd  have  been  a  host  in  yourself. 
Rice,"  said  Tracey  in  his  comical  way,  meaning  a 
joke,  which  I  easily  saw ;  "  but,  all  the  same,  as  we 
had  to  fight  Germany,  the  sooner  we  did  it  the 
better." 

So  I  gave  up  hating  the  sad  fact  of  not  being 
there,  though  it  was  extra  rough  on  me,  because 
many  people  seemed  to  think  it  was  going  to  be  the 

115 


116     THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

last  war  on  earth;  and  if  that  was  so,  my  occupa- 
tion was  gone,  and  I  might  just  as  well  not  have 
been  born,  except  for  the  simple  and  rather  tame 
pleasure  of  being  alive.  But  what's  the  good  of 
that,  if  you're  not  going  to  do  anything  worth 
mentioning  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave,  as  the  say- 
ing is? 

As  far  as  mere  fighting  went,  I  did  all  I  could  at 
Merivale,  and,  after  seven  regular  fights,  got  to  be 
cock  of  the  Lower  School.  And  in  ordinary  times  I 
should  have  been  cock  of  the  whole  school;  but, 
curiously  enough,  there  was  one  chap  of  very  un- 
usual fighting  ability  at  Merivale  when  I  was  there, 
and  he  was  rightly  regarded  as  cock  of  the  school 
in  the  science  of  fighting. 

It  happened,  also,  that  he  and  I  were  tremendous 
chums  —  such  chums  as  are  seldom  seen  —  for  we 
had  similar  ideas  on  all  subjects  and  never  differed 
even  on  the  subject  of  the  boxing  art.  In  fact  we 
only  differed  because  I  was  going  into  the  Navy  and 
Sutherland  minor  was  going  into  the  Law.  He  had 
no  taste  for  soldiering,  like  his  brother,  Sutherland 
major;  though  great  genius  for  boxing,  in  which 
he  took  after  his  father,  and  as  his  father  was  in 
the  law  and  wanted  him  to  go  into  it,  he  resolved 
to  obey. 


THE  FIGHT  117 

But  to  me  the  law  seemed  a  feeble  profession, 
and  I  often  tried  to  dissuade  him  from  it. 

Sutherland  minor  was  sixteen  and  a  half  and 
tall;  I  was  fifteen,  and  three  inches  shorter.  He 
had  better  biceps  than  me  and  a  longer  reach,  and 
he  said  I  had  a  better  punch  than  him,  but  less 
science. 

After  my  third  fight,  he  always  let  me  second  him 
in  his  fights;  but  he  only  had  two  before  this  par- 
ticularly interesting  fight  I  am  going  to  mention; 
and  one  was  against  Blades,  which  he  won  after  six 
rounds  by  excellent  science  and  far  superior  foot- 
work to  Blades;  and  the  other  was  against  a  chap 
called  Pengelly,  who  only  came  for  one  term  and 
gave  himself  frightful  airs  because  he  was  a  Cor- 
nishman.  But  I  shouldn't  think  Cornwall  had 
much  use  for  him. 

One  day  Sutherland  said  that  the  Cornish  might 
be  very  good  at  catching  pilchards  and  digging  up 
tin,  but  they  didn't  seem  much  good  at  enlisting  in 
Kitchener's  Army.  And  Pengelly  said  there  was  a 
reason  for  that,  though  he  refused  to  tell  us  what 
the  reason  was.  Then  he  got  into  a  fearful  bate, 
and,  little  knowing  the  truth  about  Sutherland, 
challenged  him  to  fight;  which,  of  course  Suther- 
land instantly  agreed  to.     Pengelly  was  very  big 


118  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

and  strong,  and  if  he  had  been  able  to  hit  Suther- 
land as  often  as  he  wanted  to,  the  fight  might  have 
been  interesting,  but,  having  no  science  whatever, 
he  was  useless  against  Sutherland.  By  sheer 
strength  he  stuck  to  it  for  eight  rounds,  during 
which  time  he  got  a  fair  doing  and  Sutherland  was 
hardly  marked;  but  then,  though  by  no  means  all 
in,  Pengelly  realized  that  he  wasn't  going  to  get  a 
knuckle  on  Sutherland  and  so  he  gave  up. 

He  wasn't  a  bad  chap  really,  though  rather  fool- 
ish about  Cornwall,  and  he  even  said  to  me  delib- 
erately that  a  Cornishman  was  as  good  as  an  Irish- 
man, which  showed,  if  anything,  that  he  was  weak 
in  his  head.  And  after  his  fight  with  Sutherland, 
we  asked  him  again  what  the  reason  was  that  Corn- 
wall was  so  slack  at  enlisting,  and  he  said  that  the 
truth  was  that  half  of  all  Cornish  chaps  go  into  the 
Navy,  which,  owing  to  Cornwall  being  almost  sur- 
rounded by  sea,  they  prefer.  But  whether  that's 
true,  or  only  a  piffling  excuse,  I  don't  know. 

Anyway,  when  it  came  to  counting  up  the  most 
famous  men  Cornwall  ever  produced,  he  could  only 
mention  Sir  Humphry  Davy,  who  invented  the 
safety-lamp  for  miners,  which  was  undoubtedly  all 
right  in  its  way,  and  "  Q,"  who  wrote  Dead  Man's 
Rocky  and  was  knighted  for  doing  so;  and  nobody 


THE  FIGHT  119 

ever  deserved  it  more.  But  that  was  all,  whereas, 
when  it  came  to  Ireland,  of  course,  I  could  count  up 
thousands  of  the  greatest  heroes  in  creation,  includ- 
ing Mr.  Redmond,  who  has  just  got  Home  Rule  for 
us  after  fearful  obstacles. 

But  I  never  fought  Pengelly;  there  wasn't  time. 
For  he  only  had  one  term  at  Merivale,  and  then,  I 
believe,  went  to  Canada  suddenly,  to  an  uncle 
there. 

After  that  began  the  curious  affair  between  me 
and  Sutherland.  But  as  it  was  remarkable  in 
every  way  and  will  never  be  forgotten  by  our  fami- 
lies, I  may  mention  them. 

In  the  first  place,  Sutherland's  mother  was  a 
chronical  invalid.  I  said  it  must  be  very  difficult 
to  love  a  person  who  lived  in  bed  and  could  never  be 
any  use  out  of  doors,  or  ride  to  hounds,  or  any- 
thing; and  he  said  that  it  made  no  difference  and 
that  he  was  accustomed  to  it,  because  his  mother 
had  always  been  an  utter  crock  ever  since  he  knew 
her,  and  even  at  her  best,  when  she  was  feeling  un- 
usually fit,  she  only  changed  her  bed  for  a  sofa  in 
his  father's  study.  Apparently  she  was  just  as 
keen  about  him  as  my  mother  was  about  me,  and 
though  she  didn't  much  care  to  hear  about  his 
fights,  she  tried  to  understand  the  beauty  of  them 


120     THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

like  his  father  did.  But  naturally  this  father  was 
more  to  Sutherland  than  the  mother  could  be;  be- 
cause his  father  had  been  amateur  middle-weight 
champion  of  England  in  his  time,  and  held  the  cup 
for  three  years,  and  had  been  runner-up  twice  also. 
He  was,  therefore,  a  very  great  boxer  and  fighter, 
and  Sutherland  had  been  taught  by  his  father, 
which  accounted  for  his  genius  at  it  and  his  style, 
which  was  very  finished.  He  would  undoubtedly 
have  been  a  "  pro  "  if  he  had  been  in  another  walk 
of  life ;  but  as  it  was,  he  fully  intended  to  do  as  well 
as  his  father  had  done  in  the  amateur  boxing 
world,  though,  as  he  was  growing  very  rapidly 
and  was  also  a  great  eater,  it  looked  as  if  he  would 
end  by  being  a  heavy-weight,  which  his  father  never 
was ;  though,  as  Sutherland  told  me,  his  father  had 
beaten  a  few  good  heavy-weights  in  his  time,  though 
he  never  touched  twelve  stone  in  his  boxing  days. 

Sutherland  major,  by  the  way,  had  just  left  Meri- 
vale  when  the  War  broke  out,  and  he  instantly  went 
into  the  O.T.O.'s  and  soon  became  a  second  lieuten- 
ant and  went  to  France. 

This  father  of  Sutherland  was  a  lawyer,  and 
Sutherland  regretted  to  say  that  the  War  had  done 
him  harm  as,  owing  to  it  apparently,  people  were 
not  going  to  law  nearly  so  much  as  usual.     Still  he 


THE  FIGHT  121 

thought,  after  the  War,  he  might  find  a  great  im- 
provement. He  was  a  lawyer  of  the  sort  called  a 
barrister,  and  wore  a  wig  and  gown  and  pleaded  for 
criminals  before  the  judges  and  juries  on  the 
Western  Circuit,  often  getting  them  off  when  it 
looked  jolly  bad  for  them  —  so  Sutherland  said. 

But  my  father  was  quite  different,  being  a  gentle- 
man at  large,  and  funnily  enough,  owing  to  the 
War,  he  made  the  first  money  he  had  ever  made  in 
his  life,  for  he  had  a  great  knowledge  of  horses,  and 
the  War  Office,  hearing  of  this,  let  him  go  out  and 
choose  and  buy  horses  for  it,  which  he  willingly  did, 
and  for  his  trouble  he  got  the  enormous  sum  of  a 
guinea  a  day ! 

My  mother  sent  me  a  sovereign  of  my  father's 
earnings  and  told  me  to  keep  it  and  bore  a  hole  in 
it  and  put  it  on  my  watch-chain,  and  be  proud  of 
it ;  but  this  I  did  not  do,  because  a  sovereign  is  a 
sovereign,  and  I  simply  couldn't  see  a  good  sov- 
ereign wasting  its  time,  so  to  speak,  o^n  my  watch- 
chain. 

Then  one  day,  walking  as  usual  with  Sutherland 
on  the  way  to  a  footer  match  in  which  we  were  both 
playing,  both  being  in  the  first  "  soccer  "  team,  him 
at  right  back  and  me  at  right  half,  we  got  talking 
about  a  fight  I  rather  hoped  to  have  with  Briggs. 


122  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

And  Sutherland  was  trying  to  think  of  a  casus  belli 
which,  in  English,  means  a  reason  for  the  fight. 
But,  knowing  Briggs,  he  said  no  casus  belli  would 
ever  arise;  and  I  said  in  that  case,  if  Briggs  were 
willing,  we  might  fight  for  a  purse,  if  anybody 
would  subscribe  one. 

And  then  Sutherland  reminded  me  that  I  should 
become  a  "  pro,"  and  Briggs  also,  if  that  were  done. 

He  said: 

"  Briggs  wouldn't  fight  just  for  the  sake  of  fight- 
ing, and  as  you  and  he  are  very  good  friends,  and 
there's  no  *  needle  '  in  it,  it  looks  diflflcult." 

Then  we  talked,  and  then  he  happened  to  say  — 
about  fighting  in  general  and  weights  and  so  on : 

"  You  might  just  as  well  think  of  licking  him  " — 
speaking  of  Huchings,  who  had  gone  to  the  Front  — 
"  as  you  might  of  licking  me." 

"  Of  course,"  I  said ;  "  it  would  be  absurd." 

That  was  the  whole  conversation,  and  I  forgot  it 
while  the  match  was  on,  and,  in  fact,  it  didn't  come 
back  to  me  till  I  went  to  bed  that  night ;  and  then  it 
fairly  kept  me  awake,  and  I  was  fearfully  sorry  I'd 
said  it  would  be  absurd  for  me  to  think  of  licking 
Sutherland.  In  fact  I  got  sorrier  and  sorrier,  and 
then  I  wondered  why  the  dickens  Sutherland 
thought  it  was  such  a  mad  idea  my  licking  him; 


THE  FIGHT  123 

and  before  I  went  to  sleep  I  felt,  in  a  way,  rather 
sick  with  Sutherland  for  having  such  a  poor  opinion 
of  me. 

In  the  morning  the  feeling  was  still  there,  and 
he  noticed  I  was  a  bit  off  and  asked  me  if  I  was  all 
right,  and  I  said  I  was. 

But  it  weighed  fearfully,  and  I  fairly  got  to  hate 
myself  in  about  two  days  for  having  said  the  idea 
of  my  licking  Sutherland  was  absurd.  In  fact,  the 
more  I  thought  about  it,  the  less  absurd  it  seemed. 
I  knew  he  was  heavier  and  had  a  longer  reach  and 
was  older  and  more  scientific;  but  he  himself  had 
said  that  I  had  a  fine  punch ;  and  if  you've  got  that, 
you  never  know  what  may  happen;  and  many  an 
unlikely  thing  has  come  off  in  the  ring  owing  to  un- 
expected smacks  landing  at  the  right  moment  in  the 
right  place. 

After  a  good  deal  of  hard  thinking  and  going 
down  about  four  in  my  form,  which  landed  me  at 
the  bottom,  I  felt  I  must  speak  to  Sutherland,  or  I 
should  burst. 

So  when  he  asked  me,  for  the  thousandth  time, 
what  was  the  matter  and  if  anybody  had  scored  off 
me,  or  anything,  I  said : 

"Look  here,  Sutherland,  you  remember  that 
while  going  to  the  footer  match  last  week,  you  said 


124     THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

I  might  just  as  well  think  of  licking  you  as  of  lick- 
ing Hutchings?  " 

And  he  said : 

"  Yes,  I  remember." 

And  I  said : 

"  I  told  you  it  was  absurd,  didn't  I?  " 

"You  did  —  naturally,"  answered  Sutherland. 

"  Well,"  I  said,  "  I  was  wrong  —  it  wasn't  in  the 
least  natural  for  me  to  say  that,  and  there's  nothing 
absurd  about  it.  It's  been  on  my  mind  ever  since. 
And  now  I  see  it  wasn't  absurd." 

"What  wasn't  absurd?"  asked  Sutherland. 
"  The  idea  of  your  licking  Hutchings,  or  the  idea  of 
your  licking  me?  " 

"  The  idea  of  my  licking  you,"  I  said  firmly. 

For  a  moment  Sutherland  was  quite  silent. 

"  D'you  really  think  so?  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes,"  I  said.  "  After  considering  it  quietly  — 
in  bed  and  in  chapel  and  at  many  other  times  —  I 
can't  see  anything  absurd  about  it." 

"  In  fact.  Rice,  you  think  you  might  have  a 
chance  against  me?  "  suggested  Sutherland. 

"  I  don't  say  that  it  would  be  much  of  a  chance," 
I  told  him.  "  Probably  you'd  do  me,  because  you're 
a  lot  cleverer  and  more  scientific;  but  when  I  said 
^  absurd,'  I  went  too  far." 


THE  FIGHT  125 

Sutherland  considered. 

"  You're  quite  right,"  he  admitted.  "  You  might 
get  over  a  lucky  one.  It's  very  unlikely,  but  you 
might.  Therefore  there  would  be  nothing  absurd 
about  our  fighting,  and  I  oughtn't  to  have  suggested 
there  was.  Somehow  I  never  regarded  us  as  in  the 
same  street.     But,  of  course,  we  may  be." 

"  We're  not,"  I  said.  "  As  for  boxing  on  points 
we're  not.  But  fighting  is  different  and  —  there 
you  are." 

He  nodded. 

"  If  you  feel  like  that,"  he  said,  "  of  course " 

"  I  never  did  feel  like  that ;  in  fact  I  never 
thought  of  it  before,"  I  told  Sutherland;  "but 
now " 

He  didn't  say  anything,  so  I  went  on : 

"  It's  a  matter  of  honour  in  a  way,"  I  said. 

"  From  your  point  of  view  it  is,  no  doubt,"  he 
answered. 

"  Isn't  it  from  yours?  "  I  asked  him. 

"  Not  exactly,"  he  explained.  "  We're  very  good 
friends  —  in  fact  more  than  just  common  or  garden 
friends  —  and  I  never  thought  of  fighting  you,  re- 
garding you  as  cock  of  the  Lower  School  and  not 
supposing  the  question  would  ever  arise  between  us, 
as  I  shall  probably  leave  Merivale  before  you  get 


126  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

into  the  Upper  School  —  if  ever  you  do.  Still,  as 
you  feel  your  honour  makes  you  want  to  fight  me, 
you  must,  of  course." 

"  There's  no  casus  belli  otherwise,"  I  said,  and 
Sutherland  answered  that  honour  was  the  best 
casus  belli  possible.     He  said: 

"  Of  course,  if  you  honestly  feel  that  I  have 
wounded  your  honour,  Rice,  we  must  fight." 

And  I  said : 

"You  haven't  wounded  it  exactly.  In  fact  I 
don't  know  what  the  dickens  you  have  done.  But 
you've  done  something,  and  though  you're  my  chum 
and  I  hope  you  always  will  be  for  evermore,  yet  I 
don't  believe  I  shall  get  over  this  feeling,  or,  in 
fact,  be  any  more  good  in  the  world  till  we've 
fought." 

"  As  a  matter  of  fact,"  said  Sutherland,  "  you've 
wounded  your  honour  yourself,  by  thoughtlessly 
agreeing  to  my  suggestion  that  you  couldn't  lick 
me.  Still,  whatever  has  done  it,  the  result  is  the 
same,  I'm  afraid." 

"  I'm  afraid  it  is,"  I  said. 

I  suppose  no  two  chaps  ever  arranged  a  thing  of 
this  sort  in  a  more  regretful  frame  of  mind,  for  we 
had  always  been  peculiarly  friendly,  and  the  idea 
of  ever  fighting  had  never  occurred  to  us;  but  it 


THE  FIGHT  127 

was  just  that  fatal  remark  of  Sutherland,  showing 
his  point  of  view,  and  showing  me,  with  only  too 
dreadful  clearness,  his  opinion  of  me  as  compared 
with  him.  And  the  queerest  thing  of  all  was  that 
I  quite  agreed  with  him  really,  only  there  was 
a  feeling  in  me  I  couldn't  possibly  let  it  go  at  that ; 
and,  of  course,  there  was  also  a  secret  hope  that, 
after  all,  Sutherland  and  I  might  both  be  mistaken 
about  his  being  such  a  mighty  lot  better  than  I  was. 

So  we  agreed  to  fight  on  the  following  Saturday 
afternoon,  as  there  was  only  a  second  eleven  match 
on  our  own  ground,  and  we  should  have  leisure  to 
go  into  the  wood  close  by,  where  these  affairs  were 
settled. 

Needless  to  say,  the  world  at  large  was  fearfully 
surprised  when  it  heard  we  were  going  to  fight. 
We  still  pottered  about  together  in  our  usual 
friendly  way,  and  when  we  were  asked,  as  of  course 
we  were,  what  we  were  fighting  for,  it  was  more 
than  I  could  do  to  explain,  or  Sutherland  either. 
Travers  major  understood  the  truth  of  the  situa- 
tion, and  I  think  Thwaites  did,  and  possibly  Pres- 
ton ;  but  to  have  tried  to  explain  to  anybody  else  the 
frightfully  peculiar  situation  would  have  been  im- 
possible, for  they  hadn't  the  minds  to  understand 
it.     So  we  just  said  in  a  general  sort  of  way,  we 


128  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

were  still  chums,  but  felt  such  a  tremendous  inter- 
est in  the  question  of  which  was  the  greatest  fighter, 
that  we  were  going  to  find  out  in  the  most  friendly 
spirit  possible. 

Of  course,  being  easily  the  two  best  in  the  school, 
the  sensation  was  huge,  but  the  general  opinion 
seemed  to  be  that  I  must  be  mad  to  think  of  beating 
Sutherland,  and  I  never  argued  much  about  it,  and 
said  very  likely  I  was,  but  that  I  hated  uncertainty 
in  a  thing  like  that. 

Pegram  said : 

"  It  will  be  your  Sedan,  Rice,"  meaning  that  I 
should  be  treated  by  Sutherland  like  the  French 
were  treated  by  the  Germans  on  that  occasion. 

But  I  did  not  think  so.     I  said: 

"  Most  likely  I  shall  be  licked  and  badly  licked, 
which  is  nothing  against  such  a  man  as  Suther- 
land ;  but  it  won't  be  my  Sedan  by  long  chalks,  be- 
cause we've  agreed  whichever  wins  it  will  make  no 
difference." 

"  Certainly  there  will  be  no  indemnity,"  said 
Pegram,  "  as  you're  both  far  too  hard  up  for  any 
such  thing;  but  you  needn't  think  the  beaten  one 
will  ever  feel  the  same  again  to  the  winner ;  because 
human  nature  is  all  against  it." 


THE  FIGHT  129 

"  Your  human  nature  may  be,"  I  said  to  Pegram, 
who  was  a  foxy  chap,  great  at  strategy,  but  other- 
wise mean.  "  Your  human  nature  may  be  like 
that,  but  mine  and  Sutherland's  is  not." 

All  the  same,  I  had  Pegram  to  second  me,  be- 
cause he  is  full  of  cunning,  and  I  also  had  Travers 
minor;  and  Sutherland  had  Abbott,  who  is  a  very 
fine  second,  and  would  be  a  fine  boxer,  too,  but  for 
a  short  leg  on  one  side. 

Williams  was  his  other  second,  and  Travers 
major  consented  to  be  referee. 

Fighting  was  not  allowed  at  Merivale,  but 
Travers,  though  head  of  the  school,  and  never 
known  to  break  any  other  rule,  supported  fair  fight- 
ing, because  he  believed  it  was  good;  and  he  also 
believed  that  the  Doctor  did  not  really  much  dislike 
it,  though  no  doubt  to  parents  he  had  to  say  he  did. 
Brown,  however,  hated  fighting,  and  as  he  was  mas- 
ter in  charge  on  the  appointed  day,  we  had  to  exer- 
cise precautions  and  keep  the  fight  as  quiet  as 
possible. 

Though  favourable  to  fighting  as  a  rule,  Travers 
never  cared  much  about  my  fight  with  Sutherland 
and  even  tried  to  make  us  change  our  minds.  But 
he  had  no  reasons  that  we  thought  good  enough,  or 


130  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

rather,  that  I  thought  good  enough;  because  of 
course  I  was  the  challenger  and  Sutherland  had  no 
choice  but  to  agree. 

It  turned  out  that  Sutherland  was  rather  glad 
of  the  fight,  because  it  distracted  his  mind  from 
sadness.  A  fortnight  before,  he  had  been  home 
from  Saturday  till  Monday,  to  see  his  mother,  who 
was  worse,  because  his  brother  Tom,  or  Sutherland 
major,  was  in  the  trenches ;  and  his  father  had  been 
very  gloomy  about  it,  so  the  fight  served  to  cheer 
him  up,  and  brighten  his  spirits,  which  was  one 
good  thing  it  did. 

Then  the  eventful  day  arrived,  and  the  fortunate 
chaps  who  knew  that  this  was  the  appointed  time, 
looked  at  me  with  awe ;  and  as  we  were  getting  up 
in  our  dormitory,  Percy  Minimus  whispered  to  me : 

"  You'll  look  a  very  different  spectacle  to-night 
from  what  you  do  now,  Rice." 

The  morning  seemed  long  and  I  jolly  near  messed 
up  the  whole  thing  and  had  a  squeak  of  being  kept 
in  for  the  half-holiday,  but  I  escaped,  and  at  last 
the  time  came  when  the  footer  match  was  in  full 
swing  and  Brown,  with  a  lot  of  kids,  watching  it. 

Then,  one  by  one,  about  fifteen  of  us  strolled  off, 
including  Sutherland  and  me  and  our  seconds  and 
Travers  major  and  Preston  and  Blades  and  Saun- 


THE  FIGHT  131 

ders  and  Perkinson  and  Ash,  and  Percy  Minimus, 
who  liked  the  sight  of  blood,  if  it  wasn't  his  own. 

No  time  was  lost,  and  a  ring  was  made  with  a 
bit  of  rope  while  Sutherland  and  I  prepared.  They 
w^ere  two  minute  rounds,  and  Ash  kept  the  time. 

No  two  chaps  ever  shook  hands  in  a  more  friendly 
spirit,  and  as  to  the  fight  itself,  as  I  cannot  relate 
it,  I  may  copy  the  notes  that  Blades  took.  He 
missed  a  good  many  delicate  things  that  we  did, 
but  the  general  description,  though  not  at  all  in 
regular  sporting  language,  gives  a  fair  idea  of  how 
it  went.     He  wrote  these  words : 

Round  1. —  Sutherland  seemed  thoughtful  and 
not  so  much  interested  as  Rice.  Rice  advanced 
and  dodged  about  and  struck  out  into  the  air  sev- 
eral times  and  danced  on  his  feet;  and  once  he 
would  have  hit  Sutherland ;  but  Sutherland  ducked 
his  head  under  the  blow,  and  before  Rice  could  re- 
cover, hit  him  with  both  fists  on  the  body.  Rice 
laughed  and  Sutherland  smiled.  They  were  danc- 
ing about  doing  nothing  when  Ash  called  time,  and 
they  rested,  and  their  seconds  wiped  their  faces  and 
Rice  blew  his  nose  with  his  fingers. 

Round  2. —  Now  Sutherland  began  to  hit  Rice 
a  good  deal  oftener  than  Rice  hit  him.  But,  in 
the  middle  of  the  round,  Rice  got  in  a  very  fine 


132  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

blow  on  Sutherland's  face  and  knocked  him  down. 
Sutherland  instantly  rose  bleeding,  but  by  no 
means  troubled.  He  praised  Rice  and  said  it  was 
a  beauty.  And  Rice  said,  "Don't  patronize  me, 
Sutherland,"  but  Sutherland  did  not  answer.  For 
the  rest  of  the  round  Sutherland  hit  Rice  several 
times,  but  didn't  make  him  bleed.  It  was  a  good 
round  and  both  were  panting  at  the  end. 

Round  3. —  Sutherland  wouldn't  let  Rice  get  near 
enough  to  hit  him  and  kept  catching  Rice's  at- 
tempts on  his  arms.  And  his  arms  being  longer 
than  Rice's,  he  could  land  on  Rice  without  being 
hit  back.  He  did  not  hit  so  hard  as  Rice,  but  he 
hit  Rice,  whereas  Rice  hit  the  air.  Still  Rice  got 
in  a  very  good  one  just  in  the  middle  of  Suther- 
land's body,  which  doubled  up  Sutherland,  and  be- 
fore he  could  undouble  again,  Rice  had  hit  him 
very  hard  on  the  face  with  an  upper  cut.  Suther- 
land fairly  poured  with  blood,  but  was  quite  cool 
and  showed  no  signs  of  not  liking  it.  He  got  in  a 
very  good  blow  with  his  left  on  Rice's  neck  before 
Ash  called  time. 

Round  4. —  It  was  certainly  a  very  fine  fight  of 
much  higher  class  than  we  had  ever  seen  before  at 
Merivale.  This  round  was  the  fiercest  up  to  now, 
and  Travers  major  had  to  caution  Rice  for  being 


THE  FIGHT  133 

inclined  to  use  his  head.  Still  he  fought  very 
finely,  but  it  worried  him  fearfully  to  be  hit  so  often 
without  getting  one  back.  The  hits  were  not  heavy 
hits  to  the  spectator,  but  they  must  have  been 
harder  than  they  looked,  because  Rice,  who  has 
black  hair  and  a  very  pale  skin  by  nature,  was  now 
getting  a  mottled  sort  of  skin.  In  this  round  they 
were  rather  slower  than  before,  and  stood  and 
panted  a  good  deal,  and  while  they  panted,  they 
looked  at  one  another  with  a  sort  of  doleful  cheer- 
fulness from  time  to  time.  But  there  was  also 
fierce  fighting,  and  Sutherland  at  last  drew  blood 
from  Rice  with  a  blow  on  the  nose.  At  the  sight 
of  his  blood.  Rice  gave  a  great  display  and  kept 
Sutherland  moving  about,  and  at  last  hit  him  back- 
wards out  of  the  ring.  But  Sutherland  instantly 
returned  and  went  on  fighting  till  the  end  of  the 
round.     It  was  a  splendid  round  in  every  way. 

Round  5. —  Both  were  now  rather  tired,  and  in 
this  round  they  took  it  easy. 

But  at  taking  it  easy  Sutherland  was  much  bet- 
ter than  Rice  and  did  not  waste  so  much  energy  in 
feinting.  He  had  the  best  of  this  round  and  hit 
Rice  twice  or  three  times  on  the  face.  At  the  end 
he  fairly  knocked  Rice  down,  and  when  Ash  said 
"  Time,''  Pegram  and  Travers  minor  rushed  to  pick 


134  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

up  Rice  and  carry  him  to  his  corner;  but  he  rose 
and  walked. 

Round  6. —  This  looked  as  though  it  was  going  to 
be  the  last,  for  Sutherland  was  now  fresher  than 
Rice  and  evidently  stronger.  Rice  began  the  round 
well,  but  soon  fell  away,  and  Sutherland  hit  him 
several  times,  and  once  over  the  right  eyebrow  and 
cut  him,  and  evidently  did  that  eye  no  good.  Rice 
made  ferocious  dashes  and  Sutherland  got  away 
from  them;  and  then,  while  Rice  was  resting, 
Sutherland  dashed  in  and  Rice  didn't  get  away. 
Sutherland  hit  Rice  on  the  chest  and  knocked  him 
down,  and  it  looked  as  though  he  wasn't  going  to 
get  up  again;  but  he  did,  and  still  had  good 
strength.  He  was  being  licked,  but  slowly.  At  the 
end  of  the  round  he  got  one  good  one  in,  though  it 
was  lucky. 

I  must  here  break  off  the  account  of  the  fight  by 
Blades  to  describe  a  most  amazing  thing  which 
made  this  fight  far  unlike  any  other  that  I  or 
Sutherland  had  ever  fought.  After  the  sixth  round 
we  were  being  mopped  up  and  Pegram  was  advis- 
ing me  to  chuck  it,  and  I  was  saying,  in  a  gasping 
sort  of  way,  I  should  try  to  stick  a  few  more  rounds 
and  hope  for  a  bit  of  luck,  when,  to  our  great 


THE  FIGHT  135 

horror,  there  suddenly  appeared  from  the  trees 
Brown  and  a  man  clad  in  black.  At  first  we 
thought  it  was  a  policeman,  and  that  Brown  had 
heard  of  the  fight  and  had  called  a  constable  to 
take  us  up;  but  it  turned  out  that  Brown  hadn't 
heard  of  the  fight,  and  the  man  in  black  was  none 
other  than  the  father  of  Sutherland,  the  famous 
middle-weight  of  other  days! 

He  had  called  to  see  Sutherland,  and  had  been 
sent  to  the  playing  field ;  and  there  he  had  been  met 
by  Brown.  And  Brown,  guessing  that  the  big 
chaps  were  in  the  wood,  had  brought  Sutherland's 
father  actually  to  the  ring  side! 

Brown,  of  course,  was  furious  and  wanted  to 
stop  the  fight  and  take  down  all  our  names;  but 
the  famous  middle-weight  would  not  hear  of  this. 
The  moment  he  found  that  Sutherland  was  fighting, 
a  wave  of  animation  went  over  him  and  he  begged 
Brown  as  a  personal  favour  to  let  us  finish.  He 
even  promised  to  put  it  all  right  with  the  Doctor 
if  anything  was  said,  which  showed  his  fighting 
qualities  were  still  there.  Brown,  of  course,  curled 
up;  but  his  little  eyes  blazed,  and  he  said  that 
Sutherland's  father  must  take  the  responsibility, 
which  he  gladly  undertook  to  do.     Then  Brown, 


136  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

giving  us  a  look  which  told  without  words  what 
would  happen  when  Sutherland's  father  was  gone, 
went  back  to  the  kids. 

In  the  meantime,  I  and  Sutherland  had  a  fine 
rest,  and  after  that  we  went  on  again.  I  wished 
much  that  his  father  had  seen  the  whole  fight,  be- 
cause I  knew  now,  only  too  well,  that  Sutherland 
had  got  me  and  that,  of  course,  with  his  father 
there,  he'd  buck  up  and  do  something  out  of  the 
common ;  and  I  deeply  wished  my  father  were  there, 
and  not  far  away  buying  horses  at  a  guinea  a  day 
in  Ireland.  But  I  hoped  now,  with  this  good  rest, 
to  last  at  least  two  more  rounds. 

I  may  now  go  on  with  the  description  of  Blades. 

Round  7. —  Much  refreshed  by  about  six  minutes' 
rest.  Rice  and  Sutherland  began  again,  and  Suther- 
land's father  watched  the  fight  with  a  calm  and 
sporting  interest.  He  was  a  clean-shaved  man  of 
large  size  about  the  shoulders;  but  he  had  a  pale, 
sad-looking  face  and  very  thin  lips,  and  one  ear 
larger  than  the  other.  Sutherland  had  to  with- 
stand a  wild  rush  from  Rice  and  hit  Rice  while  he 
backed  away  from  him,  which  pleased  his  father. 
But  Rice  was  not  stopped,  and  he  got  close  to 
Sutherland  and  hit  him  very  hard  on  the  body  un- 
til they  fell  into  each  other's  arms.     And  Suther- 


THE  FIGHT  137 

land's  father  said,  "  Break !  Break ! "  and  then 
apologized  to  Travers  major,  who  was  referee. 
They  parted,  and  Rice,  evidently  much  refreshed, 
went  after  Sutherland  and  hit  him  about  three  or 
four  times;  then  Sutherland  hit  him  once.  Then 
it  was  time. 

Round  8. —  Sutherland's  father  certainly  seemed 
to  have  brought  Sutherland  bad  luck,  for  in  the 
next  round  Rice  held  his  own,  and  though  knocked 
down  at  the  beginning  of  the  round,  got  up  and 
went  on.  And  Sutherland's  father  asked  me  how 
many  rounds  had  been  fought,  and  was  very  much 
interested  in  my  notes.  And,  owing  to  him  reading 
them,  I  could  not  describe  this  round.  At  the  end 
both  were  tired,  one  not  more  than  the  other. 

Round  9. —  Rice,  feeling  he  had  still  a  chance, 
fought  as  well  as  ever  in  this  round,  and  Suther- 
land was  clearly  not  taking  anything  like  his  old 
interest  in  the  fight.  He  kept  looking  mournfully 
at  his  father  and  didn't  seem  to  care  where  Rice  hit 
him,  and  I  could  see  that  his  father  was  a  good  deal 
disappointed.  Rice  had  much  the  best  of  this 
round,  and  Sutherland  bled  again,  though  Rice  did 
also. 

Round  10. —  It  began  all  right,  though  both  could 
hardly  keep  up  their  arms,  and  then,  without  a 


138  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

blow,  suddenly  Sutherland  shook  his  head  and  ex- 
tended his  hand  to  Rice,  and  Rice  shook  it  and  the 
battle  was  over. 

That  was  the  end  of  what  Blades  wrote,  but  much 
remains  to  be  told,  and  the  fight,  which  was  ex- 
traordinary in  the  beginning,  turned  out  far  more 
extraordinary  at  the  end.  I  couldn't  believe  my 
senses  when  Sutherland  gave  in,  and  more  could 
his  father,  and  then  came  out  the  truth,  which  was 
sad  in  a  way,  but  really  much  sadder  for  me  than 
Sutherland.  Because  what  I  had  thought  was  a 
right  down  glorious  victory,  well  worth  the  pint  of 
blood  I  had  shed  and  the  tooth  I  had  lost,  turned 
out  to  be  what  you  might  really  call  very  little 
better  than  winning  on  a  foul. 

After  the  fight,  Sutherland  hastened  to  his  father 
and  asked  him  about  Sutherland  major  and  heard 
he  was  all  right  and  going  strong.  Then  he  ac- 
tually began  to  blub ;  and  his  father  rotted  him  and 
asked  him  what  the  dickens  was  the  matter  with 
him,  and  how  he  had  given  in  to  a  chap  sizes 
smaller  than  himself,  and  then  Sutherland,  between 
moments  of  undoubted  weeping  explained. 

He  said : 

"  I  never  saw  you  in  black  clothes  before,  be- 
cause at  home  you  always  wear  tweeds  with  squares 


THE  FIGHT  139 

and  a  red  tie;  and  seeing  you  in  pitch  black,  of 
course  I  thought  Tom  was  dead.  Till  then  I  was 
winning,  and  Rice  knows  I  was;  but  after  you 
came  and  I  felt  positive  Tom  was  dead " 

Then  Sutherland  was  quite  unable  to  go  on,  and 
his  father  asked  him  however  he  thought  he  could 
have  stood  there  grinning  at  a  kid  fight  under  such 
sad  circumstances.  Then  he  led  Sutherland  away 
and  explained  that  he  happened  to  have  been  at- 
tending a  funeral,  near  Plymouth,  of  some  old 
lawyer  friend;  and  he  thought  he  would  kill  two 
birds  with  one  stone,  as  they  say,  and  come  over 
and  have  a  look  at  Sutherland  and  tell  him  they'd 
heard  good  news  of  his  brother  and  that  his  mother 
had  bucked  up  again. 

Well,  there  it  was,  and  much  worse  for  me  than 
Sutherland,  because  his  grief  was  turned  into  joy; 
but  my  joy  was  turned  into  grief  —  winning  in  that 
footling  way,  which  didn't  amount  to  winning  at 
all.  In  fact  it  was  mere  dust,  and  enough  to  make 
me  weep  myself,  only  that  was  a  thing  I  had  never 
been  known  to  do,  and  never  shall  in  this  world, 
or  the  next. 

However,  Sutherland  minor  was  jolly  sporting 
about  it,  and  thoroughly  understood  how  it  must 
look  from  my  point  of  view.     He  even  offered  to 


140    THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

come  to  Ireland  in  the  Christmas  Holidays,  if  my 
people  would  ask  him,  and  fight  me  again  on  my 
own  ground.  He  couldn't  say  more,  but  though  I 
gladly  accepted  the  idea  of  his  coming  to  Ireland, 
which  was  a  very  happy  thought  on  his  part,  I  told 
him  frankly  that  I  should  not  fight  him  again  at 
present. 

"  We  may  meet  some  happy  day  in  the  Amateur 
Championships,  Sutherland,"  I  said,  "if  I  get 
large  enough  and  you  don't  get  too  large." 

"  No,  Eice,"  he  answered ;  "  for  I  shall  be  a  heavy- 
weight when  I'm  twenty,  and  you  at  best  can  never 
hope  to  be  anything  but  a  welter ;  but  I  hope  we'll 
second  each  other  many  a  time  and  oft." 


PERCY  MINIMUS  AND  HIS  TOMMY 

There  were  three  Percys  at  Merivale,  and  they  were 
all  there  together;  and  to  masters  they  were,  of 
course,  known  as  Percy  major,  Percy  minor,  and 
Percy  minimus,  but  we  called  them  "  the  Three 
Maniacs." 

Though  mad,  they  were  nice  chaps  in  a  way,  and 
did  unexpected  things  and  always  interested  every- 
body because  of  their  surprises.  They  were  all  very 
different  but  very  original,  owing  to  their  father 
being  a  well-known  actor.  And  Percy  major  was 
already  an  actor  by  nature,  and  could  imitate  any- 
thing with  remarkable  exactness,  from  Dr.  Dunston 
to  a  monkey  on  a  barrel  organ.  He  could  even  imi- 
tate a  hen  with  chickens,  but  he  was  going  for  much 
higher  flights  when  he  went  on  the  stage,  and  knew 
the  parts  of  Hamlet  and  Macbeth  and  Richard  III 
by  heart;  though  he  said  to  Travers,  and  I  heard 
him,  that  it  would  probably  be  many  a  long  day 
before  he  got  a  chance  to  act  these  great  tragical 
characters  before  a  London  audience.  His  father, 
on  the  contrary,  was  a  comedian,  and  Blades  had 

141 


142  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

once  seen  him  in  a  pantomime  and  liked  him,  and 
said  that  he  was  good, 

Percy  minor  was  not  going  on  the  stage,  though 
when  he  liked  he  could  be  awfully  funny.  Only  he 
was  generally  serious,  and  meant  to  be  a  painter. 
His  great  hope  was  to  take  likenesses,  and  he  was 
always  practising  it,  and  his  school  books  were  full 
of  portraits  of  chaps  and  masters.  Some  you  could 
recognize. 

As  for  Percy  minimus,  he  was  the  maddest  of  the 
lot,  and  my  special  friend.  We  were  in  the  Lower 
Third;  and  Forbes  minimus  was  also  our  special 
friend.  But  he  chucked  Merivale,  as  his  parents 
went  to  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope  and  took  him,  and 
then  Percy  and  I  were  left. 

Percy  never  came  out  much  while  his  brothers 
were  at  Merivale,  and  his  only  strong  point  was 
singing  in  the  choir.  At  music  he  was  an  un- 
doubted dab,  and  he  liked  it,  and  he  said  that,  if  his 
voice  turned  into  anything  worth  mentioning  after 
it  cracked,  he  should  very  likely  be  an  opera  singer 
of  the  first  water.  And  if  it  failed  and  fizzled  away 
to  nothing  after  cracking,  as  treble  voices  sometimes 
do,  then  he  was  going  to  be  a  clergyman  —  if  his 
father  would  let  him. 

He  certainly  sang  like  the  devil,  and  Mr.  Prowse, 


PERCY  MINIMUS  AND  HIS  TOMMY      143 

our  music-master,  was  fearfully  keen  on  him,  and 
arranged  solos  in  chapel  for  him.  And  people  came 
from  long  distances  on  Sundays  to  hear  him  sing, 
though  old  Dunston  always  thought,  when  outsiders 
turned  up  to  the  chapel  services,  it  was  to  hear 
him  preach.     But  far  from  it. 

Well,  this  Percy  minimus  was  what  you  may  call 
sentimental,  and  he  certainly  was  a  bit  of  a  girl  in 
some  ways.  I  hated  that  squashy  side  of  him,  and 
tried  to  cure  it ;  but  I  forgave  him,  because  he  liked 
me,  and  not  many  chaps  did,  owing  to  my  having  a 
stammer. 

Percy  minimus  was  frightfully  interested  in  my 
stammer,  and  said  it  would  very  likely  be  cured 
when  I  grew  up.  He  said  that  people  who  stam- 
mer when  they  talk  can  often  sing  quite  well;  so 
I  tried  and  found  it  was  so.  But  here,  again,  there 
was  a  drawback,  because  my  singing  voice,  though 
quite  without  any  stammer,  was  right  bang  off  as  a 
voice,  and  even  funnier  than  my  stammer. 

Percy  minimus  said  it  was  just  the  sound  a  fly 
made  before  it  died,  when  it  was  caught  by  a  spider ; 
so  naturally  I  chucked  it. 

But  this  about  Percy,  not  me.  He  had  very  kind 
instincts,  and  was  of  a  gentle  disposition.  For  in- 
stance, when  three  of  the  masters  went  to  the  war. 


144.  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

and  Dr.  Dunston  said  he  was  going  to  fill  the  breach 
and  do  extra  work  and  take  our  class;  while  we 
much  regretted  it,  Percy  minimus  thought  it  was 
fine  of  the  Doctor. 

He  said : 

"  Though  it  is  bad  hearing  for  us,  Cornwallis, 
we  are  bound  to  admit  it  is  sporting  of  him.  Be- 
cause, at  his  great  age,  it  must  be  very  tiring  to  do 
a  lot  of  extra  w  ork ;  and  no  doubt  to  take  the  Lower 
Third  must  be  fairly  deadly  for  such  a  learned  man 
as  him." 

"  It  will  be  deadlier  for  us,"  I  said ;  and,  of 
course,  it  was.  But  that  shows  the  queer  views  that 
Percy  gets  —  hardly  natural,  I  call  it.  And  then, 
when  the  Doctor  threw  up  the  sponge  and  got  a 
new  master  called  Peacock  to  help  and  fill  the  gap 
till  after  the  War,  when  Hutchings  and  Meadows 
would  come  back,  if  alive,  Percy  minimus  was  queer 
again. 

This  Peacock  was  old  and  dreadfully  humble.  I 
don't  think  he'd  ever  been  a  master  before,  and  he 
was  very  unlike  his  name  in  every  way,  and  had  no 
idea  of  keeping  order,  but  went  in  for  getting  our 
affection.  He  tried  frantically  to  be  friendly;  but 
he  failed,  because  he  was  too  wormlike,  being  a 
crushed  and  shabby  man  with  a  thin,  grey  beard. 


PERCY  MINIMUS  AND  HIS  TOMMY      145 

And  when  he  attempted  to  fling  himself  into  a  game 
of  hockey  and  be  young  and  dashing,  he  hurt  him- 
self and  had  to  go  in  and  get  brandy. 

I  believe  he  was  a  sort  of  charity  on  old  Dun- 
ston's  part,  really,  for  Mr.  Peacock  told  Pegram  that 
he  had  a  wife  and  six  children,  and  his  eldest  son 
was  at  the  War,  and  his  second  son  was  in  the  Gen- 
eral Post  Office,  and  his  eldest  daughter  was  a 
schoolmistress  at  Bedford. 

Fancy  telling  Pegram  these  things !  All  Pegram 
did  afterwards  was  to  make  fun  of  Peacock  and 
treat  him  with  scorn,  and  many  did  the  same ;  but 
Percy  minimus  encouraged  him,  and  he  liked  Percy 
minimus,  and  told  him  several  things  about  the 
General  Post  Office  not  generally  known. 

Peacock,  finding  that  me  and  Percy  minimus  were 
rather  above  the  common  herd,  told  us  that  he  was 
very  anxious  about  his  son  at  the  War,  and  was  very 
interested  about  the  War  in  general,  and  made  us 
interested  in  it,  too.  He  read  us  a  letter  from  his 
son  at  the  Front,  and  Percy  minimus  said  it  brought 
home  the  horrors  —  especially  in  the  matters  of 
food. 

Though  not  a  great  eater,  Percy  liked  nice  food 
better  than  any  other  kind,  and  then,  owing  to  this 
great  feeling  for  nice  food,  there  happened  the  curl- 


146    THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

ous,  and  in  fact  most  extraordinary,  adventure  of 
his  life. 

He  came  to  me  much  excited  one  day  with  a  news- 
paper. It  was  a  week  old,  but  otherwise  perfect  in 
every  way,  and  it  had  started  a  scheme  for  sending 
the  men  at  the  Front  a  jolly  good  Christmas  gift. 
For  the  sum  of  five  shillings  the  newspaper  prom- 
ised to  send  off  tobacco  and  cigarettes  and  sweets 
and  chocolate  and  a  new  wooden  pipe,  all  in  one 
parcel;  and  so,  as  Percy  minimus  pointed  out,  if 
you  could  only  rake  up  that  amount  and  send  it  to 
the  paper,  it  meant  that  one  man  in  the  trenches  on 
Christmas  Day  would  have  the  great  joy  of  receiving 
all  these  luxuries  in  one  simultaneous  parcel  from 
an  unknown  friend  at  home. 

I  said: 

"  It's  a  splendid  idea,  and  I  should  like  nothing 
better;  but,  of  course,  in  our  case,  it  is  out  of  the 
question.  We've  both  subscribed  to  the  Hutchings' 
testimonial,  and  there's  not  a  penny  in  sight  for  me 
this  side  of  Christmas,  and  no  more  there  is  for 
you." 

He  admitted  this,  but  said,  because  there  wasn't 
a  penny  in  sight,  it  didn't  follow  we  might  not,  by 
some  unheard-of  deeds,  rake  up  the  money  in  time. 
And  I  said,  well  knowing  what  five  shillings  meant, 


PERCY  MINIMUS  AND  HIS  TOMMY      147 

that  the  deeds  would  certainly  have  to  be  unheard- 
of.     I  said : 

"  There's  a  fortnight  before  you  have  to  send  in 
the  money,  but,  so  far  as  I  am  concerned,  it  might 
just  as  well  be  ten  years." 

And  he  said: 

"  The  problem  simply  is :  How  to  raise  five  shil- 
lings out  of  nothing  in  fourteen  days." 

And  I  said : 

"  Yes." 

And  he  said: 

"  It  sounds  simple  enough." 

And  I  said : 

"  The  hardest  problems  often  do." 

In  two  days  he  had  got  a  shilling,  by  selling  a 
thing  he  greatly  valued.  It  was  a  tie  his  mother 
had  given  him,  and  it  was  made  of  sheeny  silk,  and 
changed  colour  according  to  which  way  you  looked 
at  it.  His  mother  had  given  half  a  crown  for  it, 
and  Percy  wore  it  on  Sundays  only. 

It  was  Sutherland  who  gave  the  money ;  and  that 
still  left  four  shillings,  and  Percy  minimus  hadn't 
got  another  thing  in  the  world  worth  twopence. 
He  then  tried  writing  home,  and  failed.  He  said 
his  father  was  out  of  work,  and,  though  a  very  gen- 
erous and  kind  father  as  a  rule,  not  just  now.     His 


148     THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

mother  also  failed  him.  She  wrote  sorrowfully,  but 
said  that  she  and  his  father  had  done  everything 
about  the  War  they  could  for  the  present.  He  then 
wrote  to  his  godmother,  and  got  a  shilling.  En- 
couraged by  this,  he  wrote  to  his  godfather,  who 
didn't  answer  the  letter. 

Fourpence  had  gone  on  stamps  for  these  four 
letters,  and  he  was  accordingly  left  with  one  and 
eightpence.  Subtracting  this  from  five  shillings, 
you  will  find  he  still  had  to  raise  three  shillings  and 
fourpence. 

It  looked  hopeless,  and  I  pointed  out  there  was 
the  additional  danger  that  he  might  be  accused  of 
getting  money  under  false  pretences  if  he  didn't 
collect  the  lot ;  but  he  did  not  fear  that,  because,  as 
he  said,  whatever  he  might  get,  he  could  send  to 
some  other  charity  which  was  open  to  take  less  than 
five  shillings. 

There  were  now  seven  days  left,  and  he  began  to 
get  very  fidgetty  and  wretched.  He  said  he  was  al- 
ways seeing  in  his  mind's  eye  a  Tommy  in  the 
trenches  waiting  and  watching  and  hoping,  between 
his  fights,  that  Percy  minimus  would  send  him  one 
of  those  grand  simultaneous  packets.  It  got  on  his 
nerves  after  a  bit,  and  twice  he  woke  me  in  the  dead 
of  the  night  in  our  dormitory  sniflQng  very  loud. 


PERCY  MINIMUS  AND  HIS  TOMMY      149 

I  said: 

"  You're  making  a  toil  of  a  pleasure,  Percy." 

And  he  said : 

"  No,  I'm  not.  Whenever  I  go  to  sleep,  I  dream 
of  my  Tommy  in  the  trenches;  and  the  parcels  are 
being  given  out  by  Lord  French,  and  my  Tommy 
stretches  up  his  hand  eagerly  and  hopefully;  but 
there's  no  parcel  for  him.  And  he  shrugs  his  shoul- 
ders and  just  bears  it,  and  goes  back  to  his  gun ;  but 
it's  simply  hell  for  me." 

"  What's  he  like?  "  I  asked,  to  get  Percy  minimus 
off  the  sad  side  of  it. 

"  Huge  and  filthy,"  said  Percy  minimus.  "  He 
has  a  brown  face  and  a  big,  black  moustache  and 
one  of  the  new  steel  hats;  and  he's  plastered  with 
mud,  and  his  eyes  roll  with  craving  for  cigarettes 
and  chocolates." 

"  You  needn't  worry,"  I  said.  "  He'll  get  his 
parcel  all  right.     Of  course,  they  won't  miss  him." 

"  What  a  fool  you  are,  Cornwallis !  "  he  answered, 
still  sniffing.  "  Can't  you  see  that,  if  I  don't  send 
a  parcel,  there  will  be  one  parcel  less;  and  so  one 
man  will  go  without  who  would  otherwise  have  had 
a  parcel ;  and  that  man  will  be  this  one  I  see  in  my 
dreadful  dreams." 

"  If  you  put  it  like  that,"  I  said  — "  of  course." 


150  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

Then  he  had  another  beastly  thought. 

"  I've  got  an  idea  the  man  is  Peacock's  son/'  he 
said.  "And  I  feel  a  regular  traitor  to  Peacock 
now  every  time  I  look  at  him." 

"  Then  why  don't  you  ask  him  for  some  money?  " 
I  naturally  answered. 

"  I  feel  he  hasn't  got  any,"  replied  Percy.  "  But 
I  can  try." 

"  Besides,"  I  said,  "  his  son  may  be  an  officer, 
and,  of  course,  they  would  be  far  above  parcels." 

"  I  hope  he  is,"  said  Percy ;  "  but  I  don't  think 
he  is.  And  nobody  would  be  above  a  parcel  at  a 
time  like  that." 

Anyway  he  asked  Peacock,  and  Peacock  gave  him 
sixpence,  and  wished  he  could  do  better.  This 
made  two  and  twopence;  and  the  same  day  Percy 
found  a  threepenny  piece  in  the  playground;  and 
though,  at  another  time,  he  would  have  mentioned 
this,  with  a  view  of  returning  it  to  the  proper 
owner,  now  he  didn't,  but  said  it  was  a  Providence, 

and  added  it  to  the  rest. 

And  this  gave  him  another  hopeful  idea,  and  he 
mentioned  the  parcel  for  his  Tommy  in  his  prayers, 
morning  and  evening,  and  asked  me  to  do  so  too. 
I  was  fed  up  with  the  whole  thing  by  now,  because 
Percy  was  getting  fairly  tormented  by  it,  and  even 


PERCY  MINIMUS  AND  HIS  TOMMY      151 

said  he  saw  the  Tommy  looking  at  him  in  broad 
daylight  sometimes  —  over  the  playground  wall,  or 
through  the  window  in  the  middle  of  a  class.  Still 
I  obliged  him,  and  prayed  four  times  for  him  to 
get  his  two  and  sevenpence ;  but  there  was  no  reply 
whatever;  and  in  this  way  two  days  were  wasted. 

Then  he  had  a  desperate  but  brilliant  idea,  and 
told  me.     He  said : 

"  After  school  on  Friday,  in  the  half-hour  before 
tea,  I'm  going  to  break  bounds  and  go  down  into 
Merivale  and  stand  by  the  pavement  and  sing  the 
solo  from  the  anthem  we  did  last  Sunday !  Many 
people  who  sing  along  by  the  pavement  make  money 
by  doing  so,  and  I  might." 

"  If  you're  caught,  Dunston  will  flog  you,"  I 
reminded  him. 

But  he  was  far  past  a  thing  like  that.  His  eyes 
had  glittered  in  rather  a  wild  way  for  three  days 
now,  and  he  said  the  Tommy  with  the  black  mous- 
tache was  always  looking  reproachfully  at  him, 
and  if  he  shut  his  eyes  he  saw  him  more  distinctly 
than  ever.  In  fact,  he  was  getting  larger  and 
more  threatening  every  minute.     He  said : 

"  A  mere  flogging  is  nothing  to  what  they  endure 
in  the  trenches." 

It  was  a  sporting  idea,  and  I  would  have  risked 


152     THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

it  and  gone  with  him;  in  fact,  I  offered,  being  his 
great  chum,  but  he  would  not  allow  me. 

"  No,"  he  said,  "  nothing  is  gained  by  your  com- 
ing. This  is  entirely  my  affair.  Besides,  you 
wouldn't  tempt  people  to  subscribe." 

So  he  went,  and  escaped  in  the  darkness,  and  I 
waited  at  the  limit  of  "  bounds  "  with  great  anxiety 
to  meet  him  when  he  came  back.  My  last  word  to 
him  was  not  to  sing  his  bit  out  of  an  anthem,  but 
something  comic  about  the  War.  But  he  didn't 
know  anything  comic  about  the  War,  and  he  said, 
even  if  he  did,  that  such  a  thing  would  only  amuse 
common  people,  who  could  not  be  supposed  to  give 
more  than  halfpence,  if  they  gave  anything  at  all ; 
whereas  a  solo  from  a  fine  anthem  would  attract  a 
better  class,  who  understood  more  about  music, 
and  were  more  religious,  and  consequently  had 
more  money. 

So  he  went,  and  in  about  twenty  minutes,  to  my 
great  horror,  I  saw  him  being  brought  back  in  the 
custody  of  Brown  —  our  well  known  master ! 

The  hateful  Brown  always  loves  to  score  off  any- 
body not  in  his  own  class,  and  so,  seeing  Percy 
warbling  out  of  bounds  in  the  middle  of  Merivale, 
and  about  ten  people,  mostly  kids,  listening  to  him, 
he  pounced  on  the  wretched  Percy  and  dragged  him 


PERCY  MINIMUS  AND  HIS  TOMMY      153 

away.  He'd  been  singing  about  ten  minutes  when 
the  blow  fell,  and  he  was  fearfully  upset  about  it, 
because  everything  had  been  going  jolly  well,  and 
he  had  already  made  no  less  than  sevenpence  in 
coppers,  all  from  oldish  women.  He  had  been  told 
to  go  away  from  in  front  of  a  butcher's  shop,  but 
nobody  else  had  interfered  with  him  in  the  least, 
and  he  had  sung  the  anthem  solo  through  twice, 
and  was  just  off  again  when  the  brutal  Brown  came 
along  and  saw  the  Merivale  colours  on  his  cap,  rec- 
ognized Percy  minimus,  and  very  nearly  had  a  fit. 

So  there  it  was ;  and  he  got  flogged,  and  Dr.  Dun- 
ston  said  it  showed  low  tastes,  and  would  have  been 
a  source  of  great  sorrow  to  his  father.  And  he  also 
said  that  to  explode  a  sacred  air  in  that  way  in 
hope  of  touching  the  charitable  to  fill  his  own 
pocket  was  about  the  limit,  and  a  great  disgrace  to 
the  school  in  general.  All  of  which  went  off  Percy 
like  water  off  a  duck's  back,  and  the  flogging  didn't 
seem  to  hurt  him  either. 

And  there  were  four  days  still,  and  he  said  his 
Tommy  grew  larger  and  larger,  until  he  was  almost 
as  big  as  a  house.  In  fact,  Percy  minimus  was 
rapidly  growing  dotty,  and,  as  his  great  friend,  I 
felt  I  must  do  something,  or  he  would  very  likely 
get  some  other  dangerous  illness,  or  have  a  fit,  or 


154     THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

lose  his  mind  for  ever  and  become  a  maniac  in  real 
earnest.  So  I  told  Percy  minor ;  but  unfortunately 
lie  and  my  Percy  had  quarrelled  rather  bitterly  for 
the  moment,  and  Percy  minor  said  he  didn't  care 
what  happened  to  Percy  minimus;  and  that  if  he 
went  out  of  his  mind  he  wouldn't  have  far  to  go; 
while,  as  to  Percy  major,  I  couldn't  tell  him,  be- 
cause he  had  left  Merivale  the  term  before. 

The  matron  now  discovered  that  Percy  was 
queer,  for  she'd  been  making  him  take  pills  for  two 
days,  and  then  one  night,  hearing  him  sigh  fear- 
fully after  he  was  in  bed,  she  tried  his  temperature, 
and  found  it  about  three  hundred  degrees  of 
warmth.  So  she  lugged  him  off  to  the  sick  room, 
and  Dr.  Weston  came  in  his  motor,  and  said  he 
couldn't  see  any  reason  for  it,  and  gave  Percy  some 
muck  to  calm  him  down. 

Next  day  he  was  kept  in  the  sick  room,  though 
cooler,  and  when  Dr.  Weston  came  on  that  day  and 
questioned  Percy  in  a  kind  tone  of  voice,  he  ex- 
plained the  whole  thing  to  the  doctor,  and  said  that 
he  was  in  fearful  dififlculties  of  mind.  And  Dr. 
Weston  asked  him  what  difficulties,  and  he  said  for 
two  shillings,  which,  added  to  three,  make  five. 

Then  the  doctor  told  him  to  go  on,  so  he  did,  and 
showed   the   doctor   the    advertisement    from    the 


PERCY  MINIMUS  AND  HIS  TOMMY      155 

paper  about  the  simultaneous  parcels.-  He  also 
said  that  his  Tommy  had  now  grown  as  big  as  a 
cloud  in  the  sky,  and  was  always  looking  at  him 
by  night  and  day  hungrily,  and  urging  him  on  to 
fresh  efforts.  And  he  also  said  that  if  he  was  only 
allowed  to  go  into  the  streets  and  sing  an  anthem 
for  an  hour  or  two,  the  two  shillings  would  be  ac- 
complished, and  all  would  be  well.  And  encour- 
aged by  the  great  interest  of  Dr.  Weston,  Percy 
minimus  ventured  to  ask  him  if  he  thought  he 
could  ask  Dr.  Dunston  to  allow  this  to  be  done,  see- 
ing it  meant  great  comfort  and  joy  for  a  Tommy  in 
the  trenches  on  Christmas  Day. 

It  made  Percy  much  cooler  and  calmer  explain- 
ing why  his  temperature  had  run  up,  and  the  doc- 
tor said  it  was  undoubtedly  not  good  for  Percy  to 
have  the  Tommy  so  much  on  his  miud.  He  didn't 
approve  of  the  idea  of  Percy  singing  either;  but 
he  put  his  hand  into  his  waistcoat  pocket  and  pro- 
duced a  two-shilling  piece,  as  if  it  was  nothing,  and 
he  said  that  if  the  matron  or  somebody,  would  get 
a  postal  order  for  five  shillings  and  send  it  off  at 
once,  he  had  every  reason  to  think  that  Percy  would 
soon  recover. 

Which  was  done,  and  I  was  allowed  to  see  Percy, 
and  bring  from  his  desk  the  cutting  out  of  the 


156     THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

newspaper,  which  he  had  already  signed  with  his 
name  and  address,  which  were  to  go  to  the  Front 
with  his  parcel.  And  Percy  said  that  a  great 
weight  had  now  been  lifted  from  his  brain,  which 
no  doubt  it  had. 

Anyhow,  when  Dr.  Weston  came  next  day  he 
found  Percy  in  a  bath  of  perspiration,  and  was 
much  pleased,  and  said  he  was  practically  cured. 
And  Percy  told  him  that  his  Tommy  had  now 
shrunk  to  about  the  size  of  an  ordinary  Tommy, 
and  only  came  when  he  was  asleep,  and  was  not  in 
the  least  reproachful,  but  quite  pleasant  and  nice. 
And  one  day  later  the  Tommy  disappeared  alto- 
gether, and  Percy  minimus  became  perfectly  well. 
In  fact,  before  the  holidays  arrived  he  seemed  to 
have  forgotten  all  about  his  Tommy,  and  I  took 
jolly  good  care  not  to  remind  him. 

He  got  fearfully  keen  about  Dr.  Weston  then, 
and  said  that  he  was  the  best  man  he  had  ever  seen 
or  heard  of;  and  he  even  hoped  that  next  term  he 
might  run  up  to  three  hundred  degrees  again  — 
just  for  the  great  pleasure  of  seeing  and  talking  to 
this  doctor  once  more. 

But  that  wasn't  all  by  any  means  —  in  fact,  you 
might  say  that  far  the  most  remarkable  part  of 
the  adventure  of  Percy  minimus  had  yet  to  come. 


PERCY  MINIMUS  AND  HIS  TOMMY      157 

He  went  home  for  the  holidays,  and  when  he  came 
back,  much  to  my  astonishment,  he  was  full  of  his 
blessed  Tommy  again.  He  actually  said  that  he'd 
got  a  photograph  of  him ! 

I  thought  that  coming  back  to  school  had  made 
him  queer  once  more,  but  he  wasn't  in  the  least 
queer,  for  I  saw  the  photograph  with  my  own  eyes. 

It  was  like  this:  the  Tommy  who  had  got  the 
Christmas  parcel  which  Percy's  five  shillings 
bought,  found  Percy's  address  in  it,  according  to 
the  splendid  arrangement  of  the  newspaper,  and, 
though  far  too  busy  in  the  trenches  to  take  any 
notice  of  it  just  then,  he  was  not  too  busy  to  smoke 
the  new  pipe  and  the  cigarettes  and  eat  the  vari- 
ous sweets  —  no  doubt  between  intervals  of  fiery 
slaughter.  But  he  kept  Percy's  address  in  his 
pocket,  for  he  was  a  good  and  grateful  man;  and 
then,  most  unfortunately,  he  was  hit  in  the  foot  by 
a  piece  of  shrapnel  shell,  and  though  far  from 
killed,  yet  so  much  wounded  that  he  had  to  retire 
from  the  Front.  In  fact,  he  was  sent  home  to  re- 
cover, and  one  day  in  hospital,  about  a  week  before 
the  end  of  the  holidays,  he  had  found  Percy 
minimus's  name  and  address  in  the  pocket  of  his 
coat,  and  had  written  Percy  a  most  interesting  let- 
ter of  four  pages,  saying  that  the  parcel  had  been 


158  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

a  great  comfort  to  him,  and  that  he  had  sucked  the 
last  peppermint  drop  only  an  hour  before  being 
shrapnelled.  And,  having  been  photographed  sev- 
eral times  in  the  hospital  by  visitors,  he  sent  Percy 
minimus  one.     And  there  he  was ! 

I  said  it  was  a  jolly  interesting  thing,  and  so  on; 
but  I  couldn't  for  the  moment  see  why  Percy  was 
so  frightfully  excited  about  it,  because  it  was  quite 
a  possible  thing  to  happen,  though,  of  course,  very 
good  in  its  way,  and  a  letter  he  would  always  keep. 

And  he  said: 

"  You  don't  seem  to  see  the  point,  Cornwallis. 
It's  a  miracle." 

And  I  said : 

"Why?" 

And  he  said: 

"  Because  this  is  the  very  identical  Tommy  I 
was  always  seeing  in  my  dreams  —  the  very  iden- 
tical one! " 

I  hadn't  thought  of  that,  but  somehow  taken  it 
for  granted.  Then  he  pointed  out  it  wasn't  in  the 
least  a  thing  to  take  for  granted,  but  the  purest 
miracle  that  ever  happened  in  the  memory  of  man, 
and  quite  beyond  human  power  to  explain  it  in  the 
world. 

I  said  there  might  be  people  in  the  world  who 


PERCY  MINIMUS  AND  HIS  TOMMY      159 

could,  but  he  wouldn't  hear  of  such  a  thing.  He 
said : 

"  No  —  not  in  this  world ;  but  no  doubt  there 
are  in  the  next/'     , 

And  I  said : 

"  Then  you'll  have  to  wait.'^ 

And  he  said : 

"  It's  done  one  thing;  it's  quite  decided  me  about 
my  future.     I'm  going  to  be  a  clergyman." 

And  I  said : 

"  Not  if  your  voice  doesn't  crack,  surely?  " 

"  My  voice ! "  answered  Percy  minimus  with 
great  scorn.  "  What  is  a  voice  compared  to  a 
miracle?  If  miracles  happen  to  you,  then,  if 
you've  got  any  proper  feeling,  you  ought  to  insist 
on  being  a  clergyman." 

So  I  suppose  he  will  be.  But  whatever  else  he 
is  —  even  if  he  rises  to  be  a  Canon  or  a  Bishop 
—  he'll  always  me  a  maniac,  the  same  as  his 
brothers. 


THE  PRIZE  POEM 

Things  were  beastly  dull  at  Merivale  when  we 
went  back  after  the  Christmas  holidays,  and  I  be- 
lieve even  the  Doctor  felt  it.  Of  course,  from  our 
point  of  view,  his  life  must  always  be  deadly,  but 
I  suppose  he  gets  a  certain  amount  of  feeble  ex- 
citement into  it,  in  ways  not  known  to  us.  It's 
rather  interesting  to  wonder  what  old  people  do 
find  worth  doing;  yet  they  must  do  something  to 
amuse  themselves,  off  and  on,  or  they'd  go  mad,  I 
should  think,  which  they  seldom  do.  The  amuse- 
ments of  a  very  old  person  must  be  rather  weird, 
yet  they  clearly  like  to  be  alive,  for  when  my  grand- 
mother died,  she  was  eighty  —  a  time  of  life  when 
you'd  think  there  was  simply  nothing  left.  Yet, 
when  I  went  to  say  farewell  to  her,  she  told  me 
she  hoped  to  see  the  spring  flowers  once  more. 
She  didn't ;  but  it  shows  how  fearfully  hard-up  old 
people  must  be  for  amusement  of  any  kind;  for 
who  on  earth  would  want  to  see  flowers,  spring  or 
otherwise,  if  practically  everything  else  had  not 
been  lost  to  them?     Myself  I  would  much  rather 

160 


THE  PRIZE  POEM  161 

have  died  years  before  than  eat  the  food  my  grand- 
mother ate,  and  never  go  out  except  in  a  bath- 
chair;  but  she  found  it  good  enough,  strange  to 
say.  So,  no  doubt.  Dr.  Dunston,  who  is  entirely 
active,  and  can  eat  meat  and  drink  wine  and  walk 
rapidly  about,  still  finds  being  Head  of  Merivale 
School  all  right. 

But  the  winter  term  was  deadly,  what  with  the 
bad  weather  and  the  slow  progress  of  the  War,  and 
losing  most  of  our  football  matches,  owing  to  hav- 
ing a  very  weak  team. 

Then  old  Peacock,  of  all  men  —  the  new  master, 
I  mean  —  got  an  idea,  and  Fortescue  thought  it  was 
a  good  one,  and  Peacock  proposed  it  to  the  Doctor, 
and  Dr.  Dunston  agreed  to  it. 

In  fact,  he  announced  it  after  chapel  during  the 
third  week  of  February  in  these  words : 

"  Our  new  friend,  Mr.  Peacock,  has  made  a  pro- 
posal to  me,  and  I  have  great  pleasure  not  only  in 
agreeing  with  him,  but  in  congratulating  him  on  a 
very  happy  thought.  Suspecting  that  there  may  be 
mute,  inglorious  Miltons  amongst  us  —  a  sanguine 
hope  I  cannot  share  —  Mr.  Peacock  has  thought 
that  it  would  add  an  interest  to  the  term  and  wake 
a  measure  of  enthusiasm  and  energy  in  the  ranks 
of  our  versifiers  if  we  initiate  a  competition.     He 


16a  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

suggests  a  prize  poem  upon  the  subject  of  the  War; 
and  while  my  heart  misgives  me,  yet  I  bow  to  Mr. 
Peacock's  generous  proposal.  You  are  invited,  one 
and  all  of  you,  from  the  greatest  to  the  least,  to 
write  a  prize  poem  on  the  subject  of  the  War,  and 
if  such  a  momentous  theme  fails  to  produce  some 
notable  addition  to  our  war  poetry,  then  Mr.  Pea- 
cock's disappointment  will  be  considerable.  He 
trusts  you  to  enter  upon  this  task  in  no  light  spirit, 
and  when  I  add  that  Mr.  Peacock  proposes  to  give 
a  prize  of  one  guinea  —  twenty -one  shillings  —  to 
the  victorious  poet,  you  will  see  that  a  real  effort  is 
needed.  You  will  have  a  calendar  month  to  pre- 
pare and  execute  your  verses,  which  must  be  com- 
posed outside  the  regular  school  hours;  and  I  may 
tell  you  that  unless  a  certain  humble  standard  of 
intelligence  and  poetic  ability  is  reached,  I  shall 
direct  Mr.  Peacock  to  withhold  his  prize." 

Well,  there  it  was;  and,  of  course,  a  good  deal 
of  excitement  occurred,  and  it  was  jolly  interest- 
ing to  see  who  entered  for  the  prize  poem  and  who 
did  not.  No  doubt  Travers  major  would  have  won 
it  without  an  effort,  being  so  keen  about  every- 
thing to  do  with  war;  but,  luckily  for  the  rest,  he 
had  left  to  go  to  Woolwich  the  term  before.  Trav- 
ers minor  entered  because  he  was  strongly  advised 


THE  PRIZE  POEM  163 

to,  being  a  flier  at  literature  in  general  and  keen 
about  poetry;  but  he  said  frankly  he  should  not 
praise  the  War,  but  slate  it,  because  he  utterly  dis- 
agreed with  it  and  hated  war  in  general. 

Of  course,  the  prize  being  a  guinea  made  a  lot  of 
difference,  and  many  unexpected  chaps  decided  to 
write  a  prize  poem,  though  most  of  these,  when 
they  sat  down  with  pens  and  ink  to  do  it,  found 
such  a  thing  quite  beyond  them  in  every  way. 

I  myself  —  my  name  is  Abbott  —  was  one  of 
these,  and  after  reading  a  good  many  real  poems 
of  the  War,  which  Mr.  Fortescue,  who  was  a  great 
poet  and  much  interested  in  the  competition,  kindly 
lent  me,  I  found,  on  setting  out  to  do  it,  that  the 
difficulties  were  far  too  great.  Rhymes  are  easy 
enough  to  get,  in  a  way,  but  when  you  come  to 
string  the  poem  together,  you  generally  find  your 
rhymes  aren't  solemn  enough.  I  believe  I  could 
have  written  a  screamily  funny  prize  poem;  but,  of 
course,  that  wouldn't  have  pleased  the  Doctor,  or 
Peacock  either,  so  it  wasn't  any  good  wasting  time 
being  funny.  For  instance,  I  wrote  the  following 
poem  in  less  than  ten  minutes : 

The  Hun,  the  Hun,  the  footling  Hun, 
Most  certainly  doth  take  the  bun. 

And  Blades  and  several  other  chaps  said  it  was 


164  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

jolly  good.  But  Blades,  who  had  also  had  a  shot 
or  two  on  the  quiet,  was  like  me  —  he  could  only 
make  comic  poems,  and  the  stanzas  of  his  poem 
took  the  form  of  Limericks.  He  said  he  could  in- 
vent them  with  the  greatest  ease  —  in  class,  or 
at  prayers,  or  at  meals,  or  going  to  bed,  or  getting 
up,  or  in  his  bath  —  in  fact,  at  any  time  when  he 
wasn't  playing  football.  He  gave  me  an  example, 
which  seemed  to  me  so  frightfully  good  that  I 
thought  very  likely  Peacock  would  have  given  him 
a  consolation  prize.  So  he  tried  it  on  Peacock; 
but  Mr.  Peacock  thought  nothing  of  it,  and  said 
that  was  not  at  all  the  spirit  of  a  prize  poem,  but 
belonged  to  the  gutter-press,  whatever  that  is.  It 
ran  like  this: 

The  Kaiser  set  off  for  Paree 
As  if  it  was  only  a  spree, 
But  old  French's  Army, 
It   soon   knocked   him   barmy. 
And  now  he  is  melancolee. 
He  next  had  a  flutter  at  Nancy, 
Though  doubtless  a  little  bit  chancy ; 
But  his  men  got  a  doing, 
With  plenty  more  brewing. 
So  he  galloped  off,  saying,  "  Just  fancy !  " 

There  were  hundreds  more  verses  —  in  fact,  you 
might  say  the  whole  history  of  the  War  as  far  as 
it  had  got ;  and  I  advised  Blades  to  send  it  to  The 


THE  PRIZE  POEM  165 

Times  —  to  buck  it  up  —  or  Punch,  or  something ; 
but  he  wouldn't,  and  when  Peacock  decided  it  was 
no  use,  he  gave  up  writing  it,  so  a  good  poem  was 
lost,  in  my  opinion. 

Many  fell  out  before  the  appointed  day  for  send- 
ing in  the  prize  poems;  but  many  did  not,  and 
though  it  was  natural  that  a  good  few  chaps 
chucked  it,  the  extraordinary  thing  was  the  num- 
ber of  chaps  who  kept  on  to  the  bitter  end,  so  to 
speak,  and  sent  in  poems.  Almost  the  most  amaz- 
ing was  Mitchell.  He  certainly  had  made  a  rude 
poem  once  in  a  moment  of  rage,  but  as  to  real 
poetry,  a  cabbage  might  just  as  well  have  tried  to 
make  a  poem  as  him.  He  was  only  keen  about  one 
thing  in  the  world,  and  that  was  money;  and,  of 
course,  that  was  why  he  entered  the  competition. 
He  said  to  me :  "  I'd  do  much  worse  things  than 
make  a  prize  poem,  if  anybody  offered  me  a  guinea. 
If  it  had  been  one  of  the  Doctor's  wretched  prizes, 
I  wouldn't  have  attempted  it;  but  a  guinea  is  a 
guinea,  and  as  nobody  here  can  make  poetry  for 
nuts,  I'm  just  as  likely  to  bring  it  off  as  anybody 
else.  It's  taking  a  risk,  in  a  way,  but  I've  got  my 
ideas  about  the  War,  just  as  much  as  Travers 
minor  or  Sutherland,  and,  if  I  don't  win,  I  shall 
get  a  bit  of  fun  out  of  it,  anyway." 


166  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

He  was  a  mean  beast  always,  but  cunning  and 
frightfully  crafty ;  and  as  he  had  never  had  a  decent 
idea  in  his  life,  let  alone  a  poetical  one,  we  were 
all  frightfully  interested  in  Mitchell's  poem  on  the 
War. 

The  chap  Sutherland  he  had  mentioned  was  re- 
garded as  having  a  chance,  for  he  knew  a  lot  about 
the  War,  and  had  two  cousins  in  it,  one  in  France 
and  one  with  the  Fleet.  He  got  letters  without 
stamps  on  them  from  these  chaps,  but  there  was 
never  much  in  them.  Thwaites  also  entered,  and 
he  was  known  to  write  poetry  and  send  it  home; 
but  it  had  not  been  seen,  and  Thwaites,  being 
delicate  and  rather  fond  of  art  and  playing  the 
piano  and  such  like  piffle,  we  didn't  regard  him  as 
having  warlike  ideas.  Besides,  once,  when  Blades 
suddenly  pulled  out  one  of  his  teeth  in  class  and 
bled  freely  over  Thwaites,  who  sat  next  to  him, 
Thwaites  fainted  at  the  sight  of  blood;  which 
showed  he  couldn't  possibly  write  anything  worth 
mentioning  on  such  a  fearful  subject  as  war;  be- 
cause, you  may  say,  a  war  is  blood  or  nothing. 

Only  one  absolute  kid  entered,  and  this  was 
Percy  minimus,  who  had  sent  a  Christmas  pudding 
to  the  Front,  and  had  the  photograph  of  a 
"  Tommy  "  back.     So  he  wrote  a  prize  poem  which 


THE  PRIZE  POEM  167 

he  let  his  friends  see,  and  Forbes  minimus  said  it 
was  good,  as  far  as  he  could  say  to  the  contrary. 
No  doubt  it  appeared  so  to  a  squirt  like  Forbes 
minimus,  but,  of  course,  it  could  not  be  supposed 
to  stand  against  the  work  of  Travers  minor,  or 
Sutherland,  or  Rice. 

I  always  rather  thought  myself  that  Rice  might 
pull  it  off,  being  Irish  and  a  great  fighter  by  nature. 
Unfortunately,  he  didn't  know  anything  whatever 
about  poetry;  yet  his  fighting  instinct  made  him 
enter,  and  though  he  wasn't  likely  to  rhyme  very 
well,  or  look  after  the  scanning  and  the  feet  and 
the  spondees  and  dactyls,  and  all  that  mess,  which, 
no  doubt,  would  count,  yet  I  hoped  that,  for  sim- 
ple warlike  dash.  Rice  might  bring  it  off.  I  asked 
him  about  it,  and  he  said  a  good  many  things  had 
gone  wrong  with  it,  but  here  and  there  were  bits 
that  might  save  it. 

He  said : 

"  I  believe  I  shall  either  win  the  guinea  right 
bang  off,  or  get  flogged."  Which  interested  me 
fearfully,  but  didn't  surprise  me,  because  it  was 
rather  the  way  with  Rice  to  rush  at  a  thing  head- 
long and  come  out  top  —  or  bottom.  He  only 
really  kept  cool  and  patient  and  never  ran  risks 
when  he  was  fighting;  but  at  everything  else,  which 


168  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

he  considered  less  important,  he  just  dashed.  He 
had  dashed  at  the  prize  poem  —  very  different 
from  Tracey,  who  was  always  cool  about  every- 
thing, and  wouldn't  have  gone  to  the  Front  him- 
self for  a  thousand  pounds.  Tracey  was  great  at 
satire  —  in  fact,  satire  was  a  natural  gift  with 
him  —  and  though,  of  course,  it  didn't  always 
come  off,  owing  to  being  so  satirical  that  nobody 
saw  it,  still  he  often  did  get  in  a  nasty  one;  and 
sometimes  got  licked  for  doing  so. 

He  told  me  his  prize  poem  was  all  pure  satire, 
and  I  said: 

"  I  doubt  if  the  Doctor  or  Peacock  will  see  it." 

And  Tracey  said: 

"  I  can't  help  that.  Poetry  is  art,  and  I  can't 
alter  my  great  feeling  for  satire  to  please  them. 
It  will  come  out;  and  even  though  old  Dunston 
and  Peacock  don't  see  it,  I  know  jolly  well  the 
Kaiser  and  the  Crown  Prince  would,  if  they  read 
it." 

Well,  there  it  was,  and  that  was  about  the  lot 
worth  mentioning  who  had  a  shot  at  Mr.  Peacock's 
guinea.  The  calendar  month  passed,  and  one  day, 
when  classes  began,  the  Doctor  appeared,  sup- 
ported by  Peacock,  Fortescue,  and  Brown. 

Everybody  was  summoned  into  the  chapel,  and 


THE  PRIZE  POEM  169 

the  Doctor,  who  dearly  likes  a  flare-up  of  this  kind, 
told  us  that  the  prize  poems  had  been  judged  and 
were  going  to  be  read. 

"  I  may  tell  you,"  he  said,  "  that  the  prize  has 
been  won,  contrary  to  my  fear  that  none  would 
prove  worthy  of  it.  But  we  are  agreed  that  there 
is  a  copy  of  verses  on  the  solemn  subject  set  for 
discussion  that  disgraces  neither  the  writer  nor 
Merivale.  Indeed,  I  will  go  further  than  that,  and 
declare  that  one  poem  reflects  no  small  credit  on 
the  youthful  poet  responsible  for  it;  and  Mr.  Pea- 
cock and  Mr.  Fortescue,  than  whom  you  shall  find 
no  more  acute  and  critical  judges,  share  my  own 
pleasure  at  the  effusion." 

The  Doctor  then  began  to  read  the  prize  poems, 
and  he  started  with  that  of  Percy  minimus,  much 
to  Percy's  confusion. 

"  The  views  of  Percy  minimus  on  the  War  are 
elementary,  as  we  should  expect  from  a  youth  of 
his  years,"  said  old  Dunston.  "  I  may  remark, 
however,  that  he  rhymes  with  great  accuracy,  and 
if  he  shows  an  inclination  to  be  didactic,  and 
even  give  Lord  Kitchener  a  hint  or  two,  I  frankly 
pardon  him  for  the  sake  of  his  concluding  line. 
This  reveals  in  Percy  minimus  a  flash  of  elevated 
feeling  which  does  him  infinite  credit.     One  can 


170     THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

only  hope  that  his  pious  aspiration  will  be  echoed 
by  those  great  nations  doomed  to  defeat  in  the 
appalling  catastrophe  which  they  have  provoked." 
Then  he  gave  us  the  poem. 

THE  WAR 

By  Percy  Minimus 

War  is  a  very  fearful  thing,  I'm  sure  you'll  all  agree,  " 
But  sometimes  we  have  got  to  fight  iu  order  to  be  free. 
The  Germans  want  to  slaughter  us,  and  do  not  understand 
We  are  a  people  famed  in  fight,  and  also  good  and  grand. 
We  never  were  unkind  to  them  and  never  turned  them  out 
When  unto  England's  shores  they  came,  to  trade  and  look  about. 

But  all  the  time,  I  grieve  to  say,  they  only  came  as  spies, 
So  that,  when  came  the  dreadful  "  Day,"  they'd  take  us  by 

surprise. 
Which  they  did  do,  and  if  our  ships  had  not  been  all  prepared, 
The  Germans  would  have  landed,  and  not  you  or  I  been  spared. 
Now  all  is  changed,  and  very  soon,  upon  the  Belgian  strand, 
I  promise  you  a  million  men  of  English  breed  shall  land. 

And  thanks  to  good  Lord  Kitchener,  their  wants  will  be  supplied 
With  splendid  food  and  cosy  clothes  and  many  things  beside; 
But  he  must  bring  the  big  siege  guns  when  Antwerp  we  shall 

reach, 
Because  with  these  fine  weapons  we  have  got  to  make  a  breach. 
So  let  us  pray  that  very  soon  we  smash  the  cruel  Hun, 
And  if,  by  dreadful  luck,  we  lose  —  oh,  then  God's  will  be  done ! 

We  applauded  Percy  minimus  for  his  sporting 
attempt,  feeling  of  course,  it  was  piffle  really,  but 
good  for  a  kid.  Then  the  Doctor  said  he  was  going 
to  read  Kice. 


THE  PRIZE  POEM  171 

"  Mr.  Fortescue,"  said  Dunston,  "  has  evinced 
the  deepest  interest  in  the  achievement  of  Rice. 
He  tells  me  that  there  is  now  a  movement  in  art 
—  including  the  sacred  art  of  poesy  —  which  is 
known  as  the  Futurist  Movement.  Rice's  effort 
reminds  Mr.  Fortescue  of  this  lamentable  outrage 
on  the  Muses,  for  it  appears  that  the  Futurists 
desire  to  thrust  all  that  man  has  done  for  art  into 
the  flames  —  to  forget  the  glories  of  Greece,  to 
pour  scorn  on  the  Renaissance,  to  begin  again  with 
primal  chaos  in  a  world  where  all  shall  be  without 
form  and  void.  This  is  Nihilism  and  a  crime 
against  culture.  For  some  mysterious  reason,  the 
boy  Rice,  who  we  may  safely  assume  has  never 
heard  of  the  Futurists  until  this  moment,  appears 
to  have  emulated  their  methods  and  shared  their 
unholy  extravagance  of  epithets,  their  frenzied 
anarchy,  their  scorn  of  all  that  is  lovely  and  of 
good  repute.  He  even  permits  himself  expressions 
that  at  another  time  would  win  something  more 
than  a  rebuke.  I  will  now  read  Rice,  not  for  my 
pleasure  or  yours,  but  that  at  least  you  may  learn 
what  is  not  poetry,  and  can  never  be  mistaken  for 
poetry  by  those  who,  like  ourselves,  have  drunk  at 
the  Pierian  spring." 


172  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

WAR 

By  Rice 

Smash!    Crash!    Crash!    Bang!    Crash!    Bang! 

Rattle,  rattle,  rattle,  and  crash  again. 

Air  full  of  puffs  of  smoke  where  shells  are  bursting  overhead, 

Scream  of  shrapnel  over  the  trenches  and  yells  of  rage! 

Roar  of  men  charging  and  howling  a  savage  song  — 

"  Now  we  shan't  be  long !  "    Tramp  of  feet  —  then  flop !  they 

fall. 
Dropping  out  here,   there,  and  everywhere,  and  rolling  head 

over  heels  like  rabbits. 
And  some  sit  up  after  the  charge,  and  some  don't. 
Shot  through  the  heart  or  head,  they  roll  gloriously  over  — 

all  in ! 
But  on  go  the  living,  shouting  and  screaming,  and  some  bleed- 
ing and  not  knowing  it. 
As  loud  as  the  "  Jack  Johnsons  "  they  howl,  their  rifles  are  at 

the  charge  and  the  bayonets  are  white  — 
The  white  arm  that  goes  in  in  front  and  out  behind  — 
Or  in  behind  and  out  in  front  of  the  Germans  running  away. 
The  Boche  hates  the  white  arm  —  it  sends  him  to  hell  by  the 

million ! 
Crash!     Crash!     Squash!     Smash!     Smash!     Smash! 
The  trench  is  reached.     Blood  spurts  and  bones  crack  like  china. 
Gurgles!     Chokes!     Yells!     Helmets  fly,  bayonets  stick 
And   won't   come  out!     Everybody   is   dead   or   dying   in   the 

trench  —  except  twelve  Tommies ! 
Damns,  growls,  yells  choked  with  blood ! 
Death,  awful  wounds,  mess,  corpses,  legs,  arms,  heads  —  all 

separate ! 
The  trench  is  taken,  and  England  has  gained 
A  hundred  yards !     Hoorooh ! 
Hoorooh !     Hoorooh !     Hoorooh  ! 
And  what  must  it  be  to  be  there !  !  ! 

Signed  Rice. 

I  looked  at  Rice  while  his  poem  was  being  in- 
toned by  the  Doctor.     He  had  turned  very  red,  but 


THE  PRIZE  POEM  173 

he  stuck  it  well,  and  somehow,  though,  of  course, 
it  was  right  bang  off,  and  no  rhymes  or  anything, 
I  liked  it.  And  Mr.  Fortescue  liked  it,  as  he  after- 
wards told  Rice;  but  the  Doctor  and  Mr.  Pea- 
cock fairly  hated  it,  so  that  was  the  end  of  Rice. 

They  thought  nothing  of  Tracey's  poem,  either. 
The  Doctor  said: 

"  Tracey  has  produced  what,  for  reasons  best 
known  to  himself,  he  calls  '  a  satire.'  It  possesses 
a  certain  element  of  crude  humour,  which,  on  such 
a  solemn  theme,  is  utterly  out  of  place.  Upon  the 
w^hole,  I  regard  it  as  discreditable  in  a  Sixth  Form 
boy,  and  do  not  think  the  better  of  Tracey  for  hav- 
ing written  it." 

He  then  read  Tracey. 

A  SATIRE 
By  Tracey 

No  doubt.   O  Kaiser,  you   have  thought 

Napoleon  was  a  duffer 
Compared  to  you,  when  you  set  out 

To  make  Old  England  suffer. 
But  if  you  read  your  history  books, 

You'll  very  quickly  find,  Sir, 
That  Boney  knew,  despite  his  faults, 

How  to  make  up  his  mind,  Sir. 

You  flutter  up,  you  flutter  down, 
You  flutter  night  and  day,  Sir, 
Yet  somehow  victory  won't  look 


174  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

Your  mad  and  fluttering  way,  Sir, 
But  when  the  war  by  us  is  won, 

And  in  Berlin  our  men,  Sir, 
You'll  be  a  bit  surprised  to  find 

Where  you  will  flutter  then,  Sir. 

We  laughed  and  thought  it  ripping ;  but  the  Doc- 
tor seemed  to  be  hurt,  and  said :  "  Silence,  silence, 
boys!  It  ill  becomes  us  to  jest  at  the  spectacle 
of  a  fallen  potentate,  and  still  less  so  before  he  has 
fallen. 

"  A  more  pleasing  effort  is  that  of  Travers 
minor,"  went  on  the  Doctor,  picking  up  the  poem 
of  Travers.  "  We  have  here  nothing  to  be  de- 
scribed as  a  picture  of  war,  but  rather  the  views  of 
an  intelligent  and  Christian  boy  upon  war.  Per- 
sonally, I  think  well  of  these  verses.  They  are  un- 
ostentatious —  no  flash  of  fire  —  but  a  temperate 
lament  on  war  in  general  and  a  final  conviction 
not  lacking  in  shrewdness.  I  will  not  say  that  I 
entirely  agree  with  Travers  minor  in  his  conclud- 
ing assertion,  but  he  may  be  right  —  he  may  be 
right.  At  any  rate,  the  poem  is  a  worthy  expres- 
sion of  an  educated  mind,  and  by  no  means  the 
worst  of  those  with  which  we  are  called  to  deal." 

He  then  read  Travers  minor,  and  we  were  all 
frightfully  disappointed,  for  it  turned  out  that 
Travers  hated  war,  so  the  result  wasn't  a  war  poem 


THE  PRIZE  POEM  175 

at  all,  but  a  very  tame  affair  without  any  dash 
about  it  —  in  fact,  very  feeble,  I  thought.  His 
brother  would  have  despised  him  for  writing  it. 
Of  course.  Peacock  wanted  a  poem  praising  up  the 
glory  of  war,  not  sitting  on  it,  like  Travers  minor 
did. 

THE  FOG  OF  WAR 

By  Travees  Minor 

From  out  the  awful  fog  of  war 

One  tiling  too  well  we  see  — 
That  man  has  not  yet  reached  unto 

His  highest  majesty. 
For  battle  is  a  fiendish  art 

We  share  with  wolf  and  bear, 
But  man  has  got  a  soul  to  save  — 

He  will  not  save  it  there. 
This  is  the  twentieth  century, 

We  boast  our  great  good  sense. 
And  yet  can  only  go  to  war 

At  horrible  expense 
Of  human  life.    It  makes  us  beasts; 

We  shout  and  spend  our  breath 
To  hear  a  thousand  enemies 

Have  all  been  blown  to  death. 
And  each  of  all  those  thousand  men 

Was  doubtless  good  and  kind, 
As  those,  no  doubt,  remember  well 

Whom  he  has  left  behind. 
And   when   I    hear  that  war   brings   out 

Our  finest  qualities, 
I  do  believe  with  all  my  heart 

That  is  a  pack  of  lies. 

A    deadly    silence   greeted    the   prize    poem    of 
Travers  minor,  and  I  believe  the  Doctor  felt  rather 


176  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

sick  with  us  for  not  applauding  it.  And  Tracey, 
who  was  very  mad  at  what  the  Doctor  had  said 
about  him,  whispered  rather  loud  that  Travers 
minor's  effort  was  almost  worthy  of  Hymns  An- 
cient and  Modern. 

There  were  only  three  poems  left  now,  and  the 
excitement  increased  a  good  deal,  because  nobody 
had  won  Peacock's  guinea  yet,  so  it  was  clear  that 
either  Mitchell,  or  Thwaites,  or  Sutherland  minor 
was  the  lucky  bargee.  Both  Mitchell  and  Thwaites 
seemed  beyond  the  wildest  hope,  and  we  felt  pretty 
sure  that  Sutherland  must  have  done  the  trick. 
But  he  hadn't.  The  Doctor  picked  up  his  poem 
and  put  on  a  doubtful  expression. 

"  I  confess  that  Sutherland  gives  me  pause,'' 
he  said.  "  For  skill  in  rhyming,  Sutherland  de- 
serves all  praise  —  he  is  ingenious  and  correct  — 
but  such  is  the  faultiness  of  his  ear  that  he  flouts 
the  fundamentals  of  prosody  in  each  of  his  four 
stanzas.  In  fact,  Sutherland's  poetry,  regarded  as 
such,  is  excruciating.  He  has  ideas,  though  not  of 
a  particularly  exalted  character;  and  even  if  he 
had  given  us  something  better  worthy  to  be  called 
a  poem,  his  lamentable  failure  in  metre  would  have 
debarred  him  from  victory.  His  last  verse  con- 
tains an  objectionable  suspicion  we  might  asso- 


THE  PRIZE  POEM  177 

ciate  rather  with  a  commercial  traveller  or  small 
tradesman,  than  with  one  of  us." 

Well,  Sutherland's  wasn't  bad  really,  though 
rather  rocky  from  a  poetical  point  of  view,  as  the 
Doctor  truly  said. 

KHAKI  FOR  EVER 
By  Sutherland 

Loud  roars  the  dreadful  cannon  above  the  bloody  field, 

While,  like  the  lightning,  through  the  smoke's  dim  shroud 

The  tongues  of  flame  are  flashing,  where,  concealed. 

The  vainglorious  enemy's  battery  doth  vaunt  and  laugh  aloud. 

Thinking  that  men  of  British  race  are  going  to  yield. 

Poor  German  cannon-fodder!     Little  do  they  know 

That  those  who  wear  khaki  have  never  yet 
Wherever,  at  the  call  of  Bellona,  they  may  go. 

Surrendered  to  a  lesser  foe  than  Death.     They've  met 
Far  finer  fighters  than  the  Boche,  and  made  their  life's-blood 
flow. 

Whether  upon  the  open  battle-front,  or  in  a  trench, 

Or  in  a  fort,  or  keeping  communications, 
With  such  a  leader  as  great  General  French 

The  British  khaki  boys  defeat  all  nations. 
And  in  the  foeman's  gore  their  glittering  bayonets  they  quench. 

And  they  will  win,  for  right  is  on  their  side ; 

And  when  they  do,  the  neutrals  shall  not  share 
The  rich-earned  booty  the  Allies  divide; 

For,  as  they  would  not  sail  in  and  fight,  it  is  not  fair 
That  they  should  win  the  fruits  of  this  bloody  tide. 

We  could  see  what  the  Doctor  meant  about 
Sutherland's  poem  —  it  didn't  flow  exactly ;  but  it 


178     THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

might  have  been  worse.  Then  Dr.  Dunston  picked 
up  Mitchell's  poem  and  frowned;  and  Peacock 
frowned;  and  Fortescue  also  frowned.  We  didn't 
know  what  was  going  to  happen,  for  the  Doctor 
made  no  preliminary  remarks  on  the  subject  of 
Mitchell.  He  just  gave  his  glasses  a  hitch  and 
glared  over  the  top  of  Mitchell's  effort  and  then 
read  it  out. 

OLD  ENGLAND  FOR  EVER 

By  Mitchell 

Oh,  now  doth  Death  line  his  dead  chaps  with  steel, 

The  swords  of  soldiers  are  his  teeth,  his  fangs, 

And  now  he  feasts,  mousing  the  flesh  of  man! 

Rejoice,  ye  men  of  England,  ring  your  bells. 

King  George,  your   King  and   England's,   doth   approach, 

Commander  of  this  hot,  malicious  day! 

Our  armour,  that  marched  hence  so  silver  bright, 

Hither  returns  all  gilt  with  German  blood; 

Our  colours  do  return  in  those  same  hands 

That  did  display  them  when  we  first  marched  forth; 

And,  like  a  jolly  troup  of  huntsmen,  come 

Our  lusty  English  all  with  purple  hands, 

Dyed  in  the  slaughter  of  their  Teuton  foes. 

But  to  their  home  they  will  no  more  return 

Till  Belgium's  free  and  France  is  also  free; 

Then  to  their  pale,  their  white-faced  shore. 

Whose  foot  spurns  back  the  ocean's  roaring  tides 

And  coops  from  other  lands  her  islanders  — 

Even  to  that  England,  hedged  in  with  the  main, 

That  water-walled  bulwark  still  secure, 

Will  they  return  and  hear  our  thunderous  cheers. 

But  Belgium  first,  unhappy,  stricken  land. 

Which  has,  we  know,  and  all  too  well  we  know, 


THE  PRIZE  POEM  179 

Sluiced  out  her  innocent  soul  through  streams  of  blood, 

Which  blood,  lilie  sacrificing  Abel's,  cries, 

Even  from  the  tongueless  caverns  of  the  earth, 

To  us  for  justice  and  rough  chastisement, 

And,  by  the  glorious  worth  of  our  descent. 

Our  arm  shall  do  it,  or  our  life  be  spent. 

The  Doctor  stopped  suddenly  and  flung  his  eyes 
over  us.  Naturally  we  were  staggered  and  full  of 
amazement  to  think  of  a  hard  blade  like  Mitchell 
producing  such  glorious  stuff.  Any  fool  could  see 
it  was  poetry  of  the  classiest  kind. 

"Do  you  desire  to  hear  more?"  shouted  the 
Doctor. 

And  we  said,  "  Yes,  sir !  " 

"  Then  seek  it  in  the  immortal  pages  from  whence 
the  boy  Mitchell  has  dared  to  steal  it ! "  he  thun- 
dered out,  growing  his  well-known,  deadly  red 
colour.  "  With  predatory  hand  and  audacity  from 
which  the  most  hardened  criminal  would  have 
shrunk,  this  abominable  boy,  insolently  counting 
on  the  ignorance  of  those  whose  unfortunate  duty 
it  is  to  instruct  him,  has  appropriated  the  Bard  to 
his  own  vile  uses;  and  his  cunning  has  led  him 
to  interpolate  and  alter  the  text  in  such  a  manner 
that  sundry  passages  are  made  to  appear  as  one. 
Mitchell  will  meet  me  in  my  study  after  morning 
school.     I  need  say  no  more.    Words  fail  me " 


180     THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

And  they  actually  did,  which  was  a  record  in  its 
way.  The  Doctor  panted  for  a  bit,  then  he  picked 
up  Mitchell's  poem,  or  rather,  Shakespeare's,  as  if 
it  was  a  mouse  that  had  been  dead  a  fortnight, 
and  dropped  it  on  the  ground.  It  was  rather  a 
solemn  moment  —  especially  for  Mitchell  —  and 
the  only  funny  thing  about  it  was  to  see  the  Sixth. 
Of  course,  they'd  been  had  by  Mitchell,  just  the 
same  as  us  in  the  Fifth  —  in  fact,  everybody;  but 
they  tried  to  look  as  if  they'd  known  it  was  Shake- 
speare from  the  first.  As  for  Mitchell,  he  had 
made  the  rather  rash  mistake  of  thinking  old 
Dunston  and  Peacock  and  Fortescue  didn't  know 
any  more  about  Shakespeare  than  he  did ;  and  now 
he  sat  awful  white,  but  resigned.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  he  got  the  worst  flogging  he  ever  did  get,  and 
had  a  narrow  squeak  of  being  expelled  also.  It 
calmed  him  down  for  days  afterwards,  and  he  was 
also  called  "  King  John  "  till  the  end  of  the  term, 
as  a  mark  of  contempt,  which  he  badly  hated. 

Then  the  Doctor  snorted  himself  calm,  and 
his  face  grew  its  usual  colour.  He  picked  up 
Thwaites,  and  ended  with  the  tamest  poem  of  the 
lot,  in  my  opinion.  Which  shows  that  grown-up 
people  and  boys  have  a  very  different  idea  about 
what  is  poetry  and  what  isn't. 


THE  PRIZE  POEM  181 

"  The  verses  of  Thwaites  have  won  the  poet's 
bay/'  said  Dr.  Dunston,  "  Thwaites  alone  has 
written  a  work  worthy  to  be  called  a  poem.  His 
stanzas  possess  music  and  reveal  thought  and  feel- 
ing. Neither  technically  are  they  open  to  grave 
objection.  I  congratulate  Thwaites.  Though  not 
robust,  or  a  pillar  of  strength,  either  in  his  class, 
or  in  the  field,  he  possesses  a  refined  mind,  a  ca- 
pacity of  emotion  and  a  power  for  expressing  that 
emotion  in  terms  of  poetry  that  time  and  applica- 
tion may  possibly  ripen  and  mature.  Such,  at 
least,  is  my  opinion,  and  those  who  have  sat  in 
judgment  share  it  with  me." 

He  then  gave  us  Thwaites  —  twittering  sort  of 
stuff,  and  interesting,  not  because  Thwaites  had 
got  "  the  poet's  bay,"  whatever  that  is,  but  because 
he  had  landed  Peacock's  guinea.  Nobody  much 
liked  his  prize  poem  except  the  masters,  and  even 
Thwaites  himself  said  it  wasn't  any  real  good,  and 
was  written  when  he  had  a  beastly  sore  throat  and 
was  feeling  utterly  down  on  his  luck.  In  fact,  he 
was  going  to  call  it  "  Lines  Written  in  Dejection 
at  Merivale,"  like  real  poets  do,  only  he  got  better 
before  he  finished  the  last  verse,  and  so  didn't. 


18a  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

TO  THE  EARTH 

By  Thwaites 

Suffer,  sad  earth ;  no  pain  can  equal  thine: 

Thy  giant  heart  must  ever  be  a  shrine 

For  all  the  sorrows  of  Humanity. 

As  one  by  one  the  stricken  ages  die, 

The  bright  beams  of  the  stars  are  turned  to  tears, 

And  howling  winds  that  whistle  down  the  years 

Sigh  "  Sorrow,  sorrow,  sorrow !  "  and  are  gone 

Into  the  silence  of  oblivion. 

Suffer,  great  world ;  the  poison  fangs  of  Death 

Can  only  wound,   not  kill   thee.  .  .  .  Lo !   the  breath 

Of  everlasting  dawn  is  in  the  wind ; 

The  distant  throbbing  of  a  giant  Mind 

Shall  set  the  music  of  the  Universe 

Once  more  in  time  —  with  harmony  coerce 

The  discord  of  a  warring  race  to  cease 

And  sorrow  die  within  the  arms  of  peace. 

Thwaites  spent  his  guinea  almost  entirely  on 
tuck,  and  though  he  was  very  generous  with  it, 
and  shared  the  grub  with  the  competitors  Rice  and 
Sutherland  minor,  who  were  his  friends,  he  still 
kept  enough  to  make  himself  ill  again.  For  it  was 
one  of  the  unlucky  things  about  Thwaites  that  any 
muck  really  worth  eating  always  bowled  him  over. 
He  wrote  a  poem  three  times  as  long  as  his  War 
poem,  called  "  Effect  of  Cocoanut  Rock  on  the 
Tummy  of  Thwaites  " ;  but  Dunston  wouldn't  have 
purred  much  over  that. 


THE  REVENGE 

If  anybody  has  done  a  crime,  Dr.  Dunston  gener- 
ally speaks  to  them  before  the  school,  so  that  all 
may  hear  what  the  crime  is.  And  according  to 
the  way  he  speaks  to  them,  we  know  the  sort  of 
fate  in  store. 

If  he  says  he  remembers  what  it  was  to  be  a  boy 
himself,  there  is  great  hope,  for,  as  Mitchell 
pointed  out,  that  means  the  Doctor  has  himself 
committed  the  crime  in  far-off  times  when  he  was 
young ;  but  if  he  doesn't  say  he  remembers  what  it 
was  to  be  a  boy  himself,  then  the  crime  is  probably 
a  crime  he  never  committed ;  and  these  are  the  sort 
he  punishes  worst. 

Well,  in  the  case  of  Tudor,  he  had  never  com- 
mitted Tudor's  crime,  and  he  himself  said,  when 
ragging  Tudor  before  punishment,  that  he  had 
never  even  heard  of  such  a  crime.  Therefore  the 
consequences  were  bad  for  Tudor,  and  he  was 
flogged  and  his  greatest  treasure  taken  away  from 
him  for  ever. 

It  was,  no  doubt,  a  very  peculiar  crime,  and 

183 


184  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

Mitchell  told  Tudor  that  it  was  not  so  much  the 
crime  itself  as  the  destructive  consequences,  that 
had  put  the  Doctor  into  such  a  bate.  But  we 
found  out  next  term  that  the  destructive  conse- 
quences had  been  sent  home  in  a  bill  for  Tudor's 
father  to  pay,  and  they  amounted  to  two  pounds, 
so  Tudor  caught  it  at  home  also. 

Well,  it  was  like  this :  Tudor  came  back  for  the 
spring  term  with  a  remarkably  interesting  tool 
called  a  glazier's  diamond.  He  had  saved  up  and 
bought  it  with  his  own  money,  and  it  was  valuable, 
having  in  it  a  real  diamond,  the  beauty  of  which 
was  that  it  could  cut  glass.  It  could  also  mark 
glass  for  ever;  and,  after  a  good  deal  of  practice, 
on  out-of-the-way  panes  of  glass  in  secluded  places, 
Tudor  had  thoroughly  learned  the  difficult  art  of 
writing  on  glass.  We  were  allowed  to  walk  round 
the  kitchen  garden  sometimes  upon  Sunday  after- 
noons, and,  occasionally,  if  a  boy  was  seedy  and 
separated  from  the  rest  for  a  day  or  two,  for  fear 
he  had  got  something  catching,  such  a  boy  was  al- 
lowed in  the  kitchen  garden  under  the  eye  of  Har- 
ris, the  kitchen  gardener. 

And  Tudor  often  got  queer  and  threatened  to 
develop  catching  things,  though  he  never  really 
did ;  but  on  the  days  when  he  threatened,  he  gener- 


THE  REVENGE  185 

ally  escaped  lessons  and  was  allowed  in  the  kitchen 
garden.  Needless  to  say,  that  this  place  was  full 
of  opportunities  for  practising  the  art  of  writing 
on  glass,  and,  as  nothing  was  easier  than  to  escape 
from  the  eye  of  Harris,  he  used  these  opportunities, 
and  wrote  his  name  and  mine  and  many  others  on 
cucumber  frames,  and  on  the  side  of  a  hot-house 
used  for  growing  grapes,  and  also  on  the  window 
of  a  potting-shed. 

I  am  Pratt,  and  Tudor  and  me  were  in  the 
Lower  Fourth.  It  was  a  class  that  Dr.  Dunston, 
unfortunately,  took  for  history,  and  on  those  occa- 
sions we  went  to  his  study  for  the  lesson  and  stood 
in  a  row,  which  extended  from  the  window  to  the 
front  of  Doctor  Dunston's  desk.  He  sat  behind 
the  desk,  and  took  the  class  from  there.  But  there 
was  a  great  difference  in  Tudor  and  me,  because  I 
was  at  the  top  of  the  Lower  Fourth  and  he  was  at 
the  bottom.  In  the  case  of  the  Doctor's  history 
class,  however,  this  was  a  great  advantage  for 
Tudor,  because  the  bottom  of  the  class  was  by  the 
window,  and  the  top  was  in  front  of  the  Doctor. 

Well,  Tudor  actually  got  the  great  idea  of  writ- 
ing with  his  glazier's  diamond  on  the  Doctor's  win- 
dow !  I  advised  him  not,  but  he  disdained  my  ad- 
vice, and  wrote  in  the  left-hand  top  corner  of  the 


186     THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

bottom  sheet  of  glass.  He  wrote  very  small,  but 
with  great  clearness,  and  it  took  him  seven  history 
lessons  to  finish,  because  it  was  only  at  rare  mo- 
ments he  could  do  it.  But  the  Doctor  was  now 
and  then  called  out  of  his  study  by  Mrs.  Dunston, 
or  somebody;  and  once  he  had  to  go  and  see  the 
mother  of  a  new  boy  who  had  written  home  to  say 
he  was  being  starved.  It  took  ten  minutes  to  calm 
this  mother  down,  and  during  that  interval  Tudor 
finished  his  work.  He  had  written  the  amusing 
words  — 

"  Beynon  is  a  Louse," 

and  we  were  all  rather  pleased,  except  Beynon. 
But  he  well  deserved  the  insult,  being  a  fearful 
outsider  and  generally  hated ;  and,  in  any  case,  he 
couldn't  hit  back,  for  though  he  had  been  known 
to  sneak  many  a  time  and  oft,  yet  it  wasn't  likely 
he  would  sneak  about  a  thing  that  showed  him  in 
his  true  colours,  like  the  writing  on  the  Doctor's 
study  window. 

Well,  it  was  a  triumph  in  a  way,  and  everybody 
heard  of  it,  and  it  was  a  regular  adventure  to  go 
into  the  Doctor's  study  and  see  the  insult  to  Bey- 
non, which,  of  course,  would  last  forever,  unless 
somebody  broke  the  window;  and,  in  fact,  Beynon 


THE  REVENGE  187 

once  told  me,  in  a  fit  of  rage,  that  he  meant  to 
break  the  window  and  take  the  consequences.  But 
he  hadn't  the  pluck,  even  when  he  got  an  excellent 
chance  to  do  so;  and  when,  in  despair,  he  tried 
to  bribe  other  chaps  to  break  the  window,  he  hadn't 
enough  money,  so  he  failed  in  every  way,  and  the 
insult  stood. 

I  must  tell  you  the  writing  was  very  small,  and 
could  only  be  seen  by  careful  scrutiny.  It  was 
absolutely  safe  from  the  Doctor,  or,  in  fact,  any- 
body who  didn't  know  it  was  there ;  and,  naturally, 
Tudor  never  felt  the  slightest  fear  that  it  would 
ever  be  seen  by  the  eyes  of  an  enemy. 

When,  therefore,  it  was  discovered,  and  shown 
to  the  Doctor,  and  all  was  lost,  Tudor  felt  bitterly 
surprised.  It  came  out  that  a  housemaid,  who  dis- 
liked Beynon,  found  it  when  she  was  cleaning  the 
window,  and  she  showed  it  to  Milly  Dunston,  and 
the  hateful  Milly,  who  loathed  Tudor,  because  he 
had  once  given  her  a  cough  lozenge  of  a  deadly 
kind,  and  made  her  suck  it  before  she  had  found 
out  the  truth,  promptly  told  her  mother  about  the 
inscription,  and  her  mother  sneaked  to  the  Doctor. 

Discovery  might  still  have  been  avoided,  but,  un- 
fortunately, Tudor's  glazier's  diamond  was  well 
known,  because  he  had  been  reported  by  Brown 


188  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

for  scratching  Brown's  looking-glass  over  the  man- 
telpiece in  Brown's  study,  when  he  thought  Brown 
was  miles  away,  and  Brown  came  in  at  the  critical 
moment.  So  Dunston  knew  only  too  well  that 
Tudor  had  a  glazier's  diamond,  and,  owing  to  the 
laws  of  cause  and  effect,  felt  quite  sure  that  Tudor 
had  done  the  fatal  deed. 

Therefore  Tudor  suffered  the  full  penalty,  and 
Dr.  Dunston  told  the  school  that  Tudor's  coarse- 
ness was  only  exceeded  by  his  lawless  insolence 
and  contempt  for  private  property.  That  it  should 
have  been  done  in  his  own  study,  during  intervals 
of  respite  in  the  history  lesson,  naturally  had  its 
effect  on  the  Doctor,  and  made  it  worse  for  Tudor. 
The  glazier's  diamond  had  to  be  given  up,  and 
Tudor  was  flogged ;  but  being  very  apt  to  crock  and 
often  bursting  out  coughing  without  any  reason, 
the  Doctor  did  not  flog  Tudor  to  any  great  extent ; 
and  it  was  not  the  flogging,  but  the  loss  of  his 
glazier's  diamond  that  made  Tudor  so  mad  and 
resolved  him  on  his  revenge. 

Well,  he  had  a  very  revengeful  nature,  as  a  mat- 
ter of  fact,  and  if  anybody  scored  on  him,  he  was 
never,  as  you  may  say,  contented  with  life  in  gen- 
eral until  he  had  scored  back.  And  he  always  did 
so,  and  sometimes,  though  he  might  have  to  wait 


THE  REVENGE  189 

for  a  term  or  even  two,  lie  was  like  the  elephant 
that  a  man  stuck  a  pin  into,  who  remembered  it 
and  instantly  killed  the  man  when  he  met  him 
again  twenty  years  later. 

To  be  revenged  in  an  ordinary  way  is,  of  course, 
easy;  but  to  be  revenged  against  the  Doctor  is  far 
from  easy,  and  I  reminded  Tudor  how  hard  it  had 
been  even  to  revenge  himself  on  Brown,  when 
Brown  scored  heavily  off  him;  and  if  it  was  hard 
to  be  revenged  on  a  master  like  Brown,  what  would 
it  be  to  strike  a  blow  at  the  Doctor? 

He  said  it  might  or  might  not  come  off;  but  he 
should  be  poor  company  for  me,  or  anybody,  until 
he  had  had  a  try,  and  he  developed  his  scheme  of  a 
revenge,  and  thought  of  nothing  else  until  the  idea 
was  ready  to  be  put  into  execution. 

He  said : 

"  It's  not  so  much  a  revenge,  really,  as  simple 
justice.  He  took  my  glazier's  diamond,  which  was 
the  thing  I  valued  most  in  the  world,  naturally; 
and  what  I  ought  to  do,  if  I  could,  Pratt,  would 
be  to  take  from  him  the  thing  he  values  most  in  the 
world." 

I  said : 

"  That's  hidden  from  you.'' 

And  he  said: 


190  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

"  No,  it  isn't :  the  thing  that  he  values  most  in 
the  world  is  Mrs.  Diinston." 

I  said: 

"  Well,  you  can't  take  her  away  from  him." 

And  he  said: 

"  I  might.  Some  people  would  remove  her  by 
death.  Of  course,  I  wouldn't  do  anything  like 
that.  She's  all  right,  though  how  she  can  live 
with  a  grey  and  brutal  beast  like  the  Doctor,  I 
don't  know  —  or  anybody.  But,  of  course,  I  can't 
strike  him  there.  I've  merely  decided  to  take 
something  he  can't  do  without.  He'll  be  able  to 
make  it  good  in  time,  but  not  all  in  a  minute ;  and 
in  the  meanwhile  he'll  look  a  fool,  besides  being 
useless  to  the  world  at  large." 

It  was  dangerous,  but  interesting. 

I  said : 

"  What  could  you  take  so  important  as  all  that, 
without  being  spotted?" 

And  he  said: 

"  Swear  not  to  tell  anybody  living." 

And  I  swore. 

Then  he  said : 

"  His  glasses !  " 

It  was  a  great  thought,  worthy  of  Tudor,  and, 
of  course,  without  his  glasses  the  Doctor  would  be 


THE  REVENGE  191 

hopelessly  done.  He  cannot  read  a  line  without 
them,  and  when  he  takes  a  Greek  class,  strange  to 
say,  he  wears  two  pairs  —  his  ordinary  donble- 
glasses,  against  the  naked  eye,  and  a  pair  of  com- 
mon spectacles,  of  very  large  size,  on  his  nose  out- 
side.    In  this  elaborate  way  he  reads  Greek. 

Well,  I  praised  Tudor,  but  reminded  him  it  was 
stealing. 

And  he  said : 

"  I  know :  that's  where  the  justice  comes  in.  He 
stole  my  glazier's  diamond.  Now  I'm  going  to 
steal  his  glasses." 

"  Shall  you  ever  give  them  back?  "  I  asked. 

And  he  said: 

"  I  may,  or  I  may  not.  The  first  thing  is  to 
get  them." 

"  He  takes  them  off  to  stretch  his  eyes  some- 
times," I  reminded  Tudor. 

"  Yes,  and  for  tea,"  said  Tudor.  "  If  he  goes 
in  to  Mrs  Dunston's  room  for  a  hasty  cup  of  tea, 
he  generally  leaves  the  glasses  in  the  study  on  his 
desk  till  he  comes  back  to  work." 

Well,  Tudor  got  them.  In  a  week  from  the  day 
he  decided  to  take  them,  he  had  an  opportunity. 
Every  day  that  week  he  had  contrived  to  be  around 
when   tea-time  came   on,   and  once   Dr.   Dunston 


19a     THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

found  him  hanging  about  the  passage,  and  told  him 
to  be  gone.  But  he  was  crowned  with  success,  and 
that  same  night  in  the  playground,  by  the  light  of 
my  electric  torch,  Tudor  showed  me  the  solemn 
sight  of  the  double-eyeglasses  of  the  Doctor  actu- 
ally in  his  hand! 

Well,  he  was  fearfully  excited  about  it,  and  con- 
cealed the  glasses  for  a  few  hours  in  his  playbox. 
Then,  fearing  there  might  be  a  hue  and  cry,  and 
everything  stirred  to  its  foundations,  he  took  the 
glasses  out  just  before  supper,  and  concealed  them 
jn  a  crevice  on  the  top  of  the  playground  wall,  only 
known  to  me  and  him. 

That  night  he  did  not  sleep  for  hours,  and  more 
did  I.  I  pictured  the  Doctor's  terrible  anger  at 
having  to  stop  reading  the  news  of  the  War,  and 
Tudor  told  me  next  morning  that  he  had  put  the 
Doctor  out  of  action  for  all  school  purposes,  as 
well  as  private  reading,  and  we  might  hope  for  at 
least  three  days  without  him,  as  it  would  take  fully 
that  time  to  manufacture  such  glasses  as  he  wore. 

But  a  bitter  disappointment  was  in  store  for 
Tudor,  and  when  the  usual  moment  came  for 
prayers  in  the  chapel  before  breakfast,  lo  and  be- 
hold. Dr.  Dunston  sailed  in  with  a  pair  of  glasses 
perched  on  his  nose  in  the  customary  place !    We 


THE  REVENGE  193 

could  hardly  believe  our  eyes ;  then  we  quickly  per- 
ceived that  Dunston  evidently  kept  a  reserve  pair 
of  glasses  for  fear  of  accidents.  And  the  accident 
had  happened,  and  he  had  fallen  back  upon  the 
reserve  pair,  no  doubt  in  triumph. 

Well,  Tudor  said  it  was  gall  and  wormwood  to 
be  done  like  that,  and  even  thought  of  stealing  the 
second  pair  of  glasses ;  but  then  a  strange  and  sud- 
den thing  overtook  Tudor,  and  the  very  next  Sun- 
day a  man  came  to  preach  at  the  chapel  service 
for  a  good  cause;  and  the  good  cause  was  a  Med- 
ical Drug  Fund  for  natives  in  the  wilds  of  Africa. 
These  natives  become  Christians  under  steady  pres- 
sure, and  after  that  always  seem  to  be  in  need  of 
drugs,  especially  quinine;  and  Tudor,  who,  owing 
to  his  lungs  and  one  thing  and  another,  had  a  good 
experience  of  drugs,  was  deeply  interested,  and 
gave  sixpence  to  the  Medical  Drug  Fund,  and 
showed  a  strong  inclination  to  become  a  collector 
for  the  Medical  Drug  Missionary.  I  had  often 
read  of  sermons  altering  a  person's  ideas,  and  mak- 
ing him  or  her  inclined  to  be  different  from  that 
moment  onwards,  but  I  never  saw  it  actually  hap- 
pen in  real  life  before.  Yet,  in  the  case  of  Tudor, 
that  Medical  Drug  sermon,  and  the  stirring  anec- 
dotes of  the  savage  tribes,  tamed  into  well-behaved 


194     THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

invalids  by  the  Missionary,  had  a  wonderful  effect 
upon  him,  and  it  took  the  strange  form  of  making 
him  rather  down-hearted  about  Dr.  Dunston's 
glasses.  Nothing  had  been  said  when  they  disap- 
peared, and  no  fuss  was  made  at  all;  and  I  ad- 
vised him  just  to  take  them  back  quietly,  when  a 
chance  presented  itself,  and  slip  them  under  some 
papers  on  the  Doctor's  desk,  and  leave  the  rest  to 
time. 

I  said: 

"  You'd  better  do  it  now,  while  this  feeling  about 
being  a  collector  for  the  Missionary  is  on  you.  It 
will  soon  pass  off,  and  then  you  w^on't  want  to  give 
them  back." 

He  said: 

"  To  show  you  how  I  did  feel  before  hearing  the 
Drug  Missionary,  Pratt,  I  may  tell  you  I  had  an 
idea  of  taking  the  glasses  home  next  holidays,  and 
buying  a  new  glazier's  diamond  and  writing  on  the 
glasses  the  bitter  words,  '  Thou  Shalt  Not 
Steal,'  and  then  returning  them  to  his  desk  next 
term.  But  there  are  two  very  good  reasons  why  I 
shall  not  do  that.  One  is  this  strong  pro-mis- 
sionary feeling  in  me,  and  the  other  is  that,  if  I 
did,  Dunston  would  guess  to  a  dead  certainty  who 


THE  REVENGE  195 

had  done  it,  knowing  only  too  well  what  I  can  do 
in  the  matter  of  writing  on  glass." 

"  He  would,"  I  told  Tudor.  "  So  the  sooner  you 
put  them  back  unharmed,  the  better." 

"  I  shall,"  said  Tudor,  "  and  I'm  going  to  return 
them  in  a  very  peculiar  way.  I  am  going  to  hide 
them  in  a  certain  place,  and  then  I  am  going  to 
write  an  anonymous  letter  to  Dunston,  telling  him 
they  are  in  that  place." 

Well,  I  thought  nothing  of  this  idea. 

I  said: 

"  Why  make  it  so  beastly  complicated?  Be- 
sides, anonymous  letters  are  often  traced  by  skilled 
detectives,  and  if  it  was  found  you  wrote  it,  where 
are  you  then?  " 

And  he  said: 

"  I  have  no  fear  about  that,  because  the  letter 
will  all  be  carefully  printed;  and  my  reason  for 
writing  a  letter  at  all  is  to  explain  to  him  that  the 
Unknown,  who  took  his  glasses  away,  is  sorry." 

"What  on  earth  does  that  matter  to  him?"  I 
said. 

"  It  matters  to  me,"  explained  Tudor,  "  As  you 
know,  that  Drug  Missionary  made  a  great  impres- 
sion upon  me,  and  I  have  come  to  be  very  sick  with 


196     THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

myself  that  I  did  this  thjng.  Of  course,  I  am  not 
nearly  sick  enough  to  give  the  show  away  and  tell 
Dunston  I  did  it,  but  I  am  sick  enough  to  say  I 
am  sorry,  and  I  want  him  to  know  it  —  anony- 
mously." 

Well,  this  was  beyond  me,  and  I  told  Tudor  so. 
He  then  said: 

"  Sometimes,  Pratt,  people  don't  pay  quite 
enough  income  tax;  but  presently  there  comes  a 
feeling  over  them  that  they  have  defrauded  the  in- 
nocent and  trustful  Government,  and  their  hearts 
are  softened  —  I  dare  say  often  by  a  missionary, 
like  mine  was  —  and  then  they  send  five-pound 
notes  by  great  stealth  to  the  Chancellor  of  the  Ex- 
chequer, and  feel  better.  And  their  consciences 
are  quickly  cured.  But  they  take  jolly  good  care 
not  to  send  their  names,  because  they  know  that, 
if  they  did,  the  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer  would 
go  much  further,  and,  far  from  rewarding  them  for 
their  conduct,  would  very  likely  want  more  still, 
and  never  trust  them  again  about  their  incomes, 
and  persecute  them  to  their  dying  day.  And  it's 
like  that  with  me.'^ 

Then  I  saw  what  he  meant;  and  I  also  saw  that 
there  may  be  a  great  danger  in  listening  to  mis- 
sionaries, and  was  exceedingly  sorry  that  Tudor 


THE  REVENGE  197 

had  done  so.  I  still  advised  him  not  to  write  to 
the  Doctor,  and  felt  sure  his  conscience  would  be 
just  as  comfortable  if  he  didn't;  but  when  Tudor 
decides  to  carry  out  a  project,  he  carries  it  out,  and 
he  is  generally  very  unpleasant  till  he  has.  Ac- 
cordingly, he  dropped  the  Doctor's  glasses  into  a 
deep  Indian  jar  which  stood  on  the  mantelpiece  in 
the  study,  and  then,  in  great  secret  with  me,  he 
wrote  his  letter.  It  happened  he  had  just  got  a 
new  Latin  Delectus,  and  at  the  end  of  this  book 
was  a  sheet  of  clean  paper  without  a  mark  upon 
it.  We  cut  it  out  with  a  penknife,  and  took  a 
school  envelope  and  two  halfpenny  stamps,  and 
wrote  the  letter  and  posted  it  to  the  Doctor  on  the 
following  day. 

Well,  the  letter  ran  in  these  words,  all  printed, 
so  that  there  was  no  handwriting  in  it;  and  the 
envelope,  needless  to  say,  was  also  printed  in  a 
very  dexterous  and  utterly  misleading  manner.'^ 

"  Dear  Sir, 

"  I  regret  to  have  to  confess  that  I  stole 
your  eyeglasses  in  a  bad  moment.  There  was  a 
very  good  reason,  but,  all  the  same,  I  am  sorry, 
and  also  clearly  know  now  that  it  was  a  very 
wrong  thing  to  do.  It  was  a  revenge,  but  it  came 
to  nothing,   because  you   had   a  pair  in   reserve. 


198  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

I  am  glad  you  had.     I  prefer  to  be  Unknown. 

"Your  glasses  are  in  a  beautiful  and  rare  In- 
dian jar  at  the  left-hand  corner  of  your  mantel- 
piece, and  I  hope  you  will  forgive,  because  my  eyes 
have  been  opened  by  the  visit  of  the  Drug  Mis- 
sionary to  Merivale,  and  I  am  sorry. 

"  I  am,  dear  Sir,  your  well-wisher, 

"  The  Unknown." 

Well,  this  good  and  mysterious  letter  Tudor 
posted,  and  the  very  next  morning,  curiously 
enough,  he  entirely  ceased  to  want  to  collect  for 
the  Drug  Missionary.  In  fact,  from  that  moment 
he  fell  back  quite  into  his  usual  way  of  looking  at 
things,  and,  by  the  next  evening,  actually  said  he 
was  sorry  he  had  given  Dr.  Dunston  back  his 
glasses.  But  he  was  sorrier  still  three  days  later, 
for  then  a  very  shattering  event  indeed  happened 
to  Tudor.  The  Doctor  sent  for  him,  and  he  went 
without  the  least  fear,  to  find  his  anonymous  let- 
ter lying  on  the  Doctor's  desk. 

I  heard  the  whole  amazing  story  afterwards. 
The  Doctor  asked  him  first  if  he  had  written  the 
letter,  and,  being  taken  utterly  unawares  and 
frightfully  fluttered  at  the  shock,  almost  before  he 
knew  what  he  was  doing,  you  may  say,  Tudor  con- 
fessed that  he  had. 


THE  REVENGE  199 

Then  the  Doctor  told  him  how  vain  it  was  for 
any  boy  to  seek  to  deceive  him.  He  said :  "  You 
see  how  swiftly  your  sin  has  found  you  out, 
Tudor." 

And  Tudor  admitted  it  had.  He  was  now,  of 
course,  prepared  for  the  worst,  yet,  as  he  told  me, 
his  chief  feeling  at  that  moment  was  not  so  much 
terror  as  a  frightful  longing  to  know  how  the  Doc- 
tor had  spotted  him.  Of  course,  he  couldn't  dare 
to  ask,  so  he  merely  admitted  that  his  sin  certainly 
had  found  him  out  quicker  than  he  expected;  and 
then,  rather  craftily,  he  said  he  was  glad  it  had. 

Well,  the  Doctor  didn't  believe  this;  but  he  was 
not  in  a  particularly  severe  mood  that  evening, 
strange  to  say,  and  he  told  Tudor  exactly  what  had 
happened.     He  said: 

"  It  may  interest  you  to  know,  misguided  boy, 
that  mentioning  your  anonymous  letter  to  Mr. 
Brown,  and  informing  him  that  I  had  found  my 
lost  glasses  in  the  spot  indicated,  he  evinced  a 
kindly  concern,  and  even  assured  me  that  he  would 
probably  have  no  great  difficulty  in  discovering  the 
culprit.  In  the  brief  space  of  four-and-twenty 
hours  he  did  so.  Perceiving  that  the  jiaper  on 
which  you  wrote  was  obviously  from  a  book  of  a 
certain  folio,  his  first  care  was  to  ascertain,  by 


SOO     THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

comparisons  of  size,  from  what  work  it  had  come. 
Perceiving  also  that  the  paper  was  extraordinarily 
clean,  he  had  no  difiSculty  in  concluding  it  was  ex- 
tracted from  a  new  book.  He  then  discovered  that 
the  page  came  from  a  Latin  Delectus,  and,  on 
further  inquiry,  was  able  to  learn  that  three  copies 
of  the  work  had  recently  been  issued  to  members 
of  the  Lower  Fourth.  Pursuing  his  investigations, 
when  the  boys  had  retired  to  rest,  he  speedily 
marked  down  the  mutilated  volume  in  your  desk, 
Tudor;  and  while  I  have  alreadv  thanked  him  for 
his  zeal  and  penetration,  I  feel  little  doubt  that  a 
time  will  come  when,  looking  back  on  this  dark 
page  in  your  history,  you  will  thank  him  also." 

Well,  Tudor  didn't  give  his  views  about  Brown, 
but  he  said  the  glasses  had  been  very  much  on  his 
mind,  only  he  had  not  liked  to  return  them  without 
saying  he  was  bitterly  sorry.  He  told  me  after- 
wards that  he  was  very  nearly  saying  to  Dr.  Dun- 
ston  that  some  boys  would  have  returned  the  glasses 
without  even  an  anonymous  letter  of  regret;  but 
fortunately  he  did  not. 

The  Doctor  then  took  him  through  the  letter, 
and  invited  him  to  throw  light  upon  it.  He  was 
chiefly  interested  in  the  part  about  revenge,  and 
he  forced  Tudor  to  explain  that  the  revenge  was 


THE  REVENGE  201 

because  Dr.  Dunston  had  taken  away  his  glazier's 
diamond.  Dr.  Dunston  then  said  that  incident 
was  long  ago  closed,  and  that,  in  fact,  after  the 
pane  of  glass  in  his  study  had  been  taken  out  and 
a  new  one  put  in,  he  had  dismissed  the  matter  from 
his  mind.  He  seemed  much  surprised  that  Tudor 
had  not  dismissed  the  matter  from  his  mind  also, 
and  he  told  him  that  the  revengeful  spirit  always 
came  to  grief  in  the  long  run.  He  then  wound  up 
by  saying: 

"  You  sign  yourself  '  The  Unknown,'  wretched 
boy,  but  let  this  be  a  lesson  to  you  that  henceforth 
you  are  neither  unknown  to  your  head  master  or 
your  God.  For  the  rest,  since  you  have  the  grace, 
in  this  penitential  though  patronizing  communica- 
tion, to  express  sincere  regret  at  your  conduct, 
and  also  to  record  the  fact  that  you  are  my  '  Well- 
wisher,'  though  that  is  not  at  all  the  sort  of  expres- 
sion suitable  from  a  Fourth  Form  scholar  to  his 
head  master  —  since,  I  say,  I  find  these  signs  of 
grace,  I  shall  not  inflict  the  extreme  penalty  on 
this  occasion.  For  the  moment  I  have  not  deter- 
mined on  my  next  step,  and  will  thank  you  to  wait 
upon  me  this  time  to-morrow.     Now  you  may  go." 

And  Tudor  said : 

"  Thank  you  very  much,  sir,"  and  went. 


20a     THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

He  was  a  great  deal  cast  down,  and  admitted, 
for  once,  I  was  right.  But  though  his  feeling  for 
the  Doctor  was  now,  on  the  whole,  one  of  patience 
and  thankfulness,  his  feeling  for  Brown  was  very 
different,  and  when  the  wretched  Brown  grinned 
at  Tudor,  and  rotted  him  in  class,  and  told  the 
whole  story  of  how  he  had  played  the  beastly 
sleuth-hound  on  Tudor,  and  started  calling  him 
"  The  Unknown,"  Tudor  took  it  with  dignified 
silence,  and  from  that  instant  started  to  plan  the 
greatest  revenge  of  his  life.  He  told  me  that  it 
might  not  be  at  Merivale  he  would  be  revenged, 
but  in  the  world  at  large,  and  if  it  was  not  until 
Brown  had  grown  old  and  bald-headed,  the  end 
was  bound  to  be  just  the  same,  and  the  rest  of 
Brown's  life,  however  long  it  might  last,  would  un- 
doubtedly be  ruined  by  Tudor.  And  he  also  said 
that  he  was  jolly  glad  the  missionary  feeling  had 
left  him,  so  that  not  a  shadow  of  remorse  might 
come  between  him  and  Brown  when  "  The  Day  " 
arrived. 

Well,  there  was  only  one  thing  more  rather  in- 
teresting about  Tudor's  revenge  on  the  Doctor,  and 
that  was  Dr.  Dunston's  revenge  on  Tudor.  Tudor 
went  to  him  again  at  the  appointed  time,  and,  after 
a  lot  of  jaw,  the  Doctor  told  Tudor  that  he  must 


THE  REVENGE  203 

now  write  out  the  complete  article  on  "  Optics/' 
in  the  Encyclopaedia  Britannica,  including  all  the 
algebra  and  everything.  There  were  exactly  ten 
huge  pages  of  this  deadly  stuff,  and  Tudor  was 
fairly  frantic  at  first;  but  curious  to  relate,  after 
he  had  done  one  page,  he  found  it  quite  interesting 
in  its  way.  Then  it  got  more  and  more  interest- 
ing, as  it  went  on,  and  Tudor  finally  decided  that 
there  was  no  doubt,  with  his  strong  feeling  for  the 
science  of  optics,  that  he  ought  to  take  it  up  as  a 
profession. 

I  asked  him  if  he  should  take  up  microscopes  or 
telescopes,  and  he  said  telescopes  certainly,  be- 
cause that  meant  astronomy,  and  in  time  you  might 
rise  to  be  Astronomer  Royal  of  Greenwich,  which 
was  something. 

I  said : 

"  It  is  a  great  thing  to  know  the  stars  and  comets 
by  their  names." 

And  he  said: 

"  Yes,  Pratt,  and  another  great  advantage  of  as- 
tronomy is  that  you  may  be  out  all  night  whenever 
you  choose,  and  nobody  can  say  a  word  against 
you." 

So  the  extraordinary  event  came  about  that  what 
Dr.  Dunston  intended  as  a  stiff  imposition  and 


204     THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

sharp  punisbment  on  Tudor,  really  worked  in  a 
very  different  manner,  and  instead  of  crushing 
Tudor  and  grinding  him  under  the  heel  of  Dr. 
Dunston,  so  to  speak,  only  put  into  Tudor  the 
splendid  idea  of  mastering  the  heavens,  and  then, 
some  day,  getting  the  perfect  freedom  by  night  of 
an  Astronomer  Royal  of  Greenwich. 


THE  "  TURBOTS  "  AUNT 

Of  course,  he  was  not  really  called  "  Tiirbot " ;  but 
just  after  he  came  to  Merivale,  some  ass  in  the 
Fifth  started  the  silly  rag  of  calling  everybody 
after  a  fish,  and  pretty  well  every  fish  known  to 
science  was  rung  in.  In  fact,  they  just  about  went 
round.  Sometimes  the  likeuess  was  fairly  clear 
and  the  simile  was  good.  For  instance,  being  head 
of  the  school,  I  was  called  "  Salmon,"  which  is  the 
king  of  fish;  and  as  I  am  underhung  and  have 
rather  fierce  eyes,  there  was  a  certain  fitness  in 
calling  me  "  Salmon."  But  after  I  had  decided  that 
Abbott  could  not  have  his  colours  for  "  footer,"  be- 
ing lame,  there  was  a  feeling  against  me  among  Ab- 
bott's friends,  and  Tracey  called  me  '^  Tinned  Sal- 
mon," which  was  merely  silly  and  not  in  the  least 
amusing.  Nor  was  it  amusing  to  call  Maybrick 
"  Sardine  "  "  because  he  kept  tins  of  this  fish  in  his 
desk ;  but  "  John  Dory  "  was  all  right  for  Nicholas, 
that  being  the  ugliest  fish  in  the  sea,  and  Nicholas 
the  ugliest  chap  at  Merivale.  "  Porpoise "  was 
true  for  Preston,  who  inclines  to  great  fatness,  and 

205 


206     THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

blows  after  exertion  in  a  very  porpoise-like  way; 
but  to  call  Briggs  "Herring"  because  he  was  a 
"  doter  on  a  bloater,"  as  Tracey  said,  and  to  call 
Tracey  himself  a  "  Torpedo  Ray  "  because  he  was 
always  trying  to  give  shocks,  was  footling  without 
being  funny.  On  the  other  hand,  it  was  neat  to 
call  Pratt  "Cuttlefish,"  because  he  was  always 
inky  to  the  elbows;  and  as  far  as  Bradwell  was 
concerned,  the  nickname  of  "  Turbot "  suited  him 
very  well,  owing  to  his  eyes,  which  always  goggled 
if  a  master  spoke  to  him,  and  also  owing  to  his 
mouth,  which  was  all  lips  and  rather  one-sided 
when  he  laughed. 

Kids,  of  course,  have  a  poor  sense  of  what  is 
really  funny,  owing  to  their  general  ignorance. 
Yet  they  prefer  their  own  feeble  jokes  to  ours.  A 
joke  that  the  Sixth  sees  in  a  moment  is  utterly  lost 
on  them,  while  utter  piffle,  that  no  sane  person 
would  smile  at,  makes  them  scream.  We,  for  in- 
stance, called  Mitchell  "  Shark "  because  of  his 
well-known  habits  over  money,  but  this  did  not 
amuse  the  kids  in  the  least;  while  they  called 
Forbes  minimus  "Whale"  because  he  was  the 
smallest  boy  in  the  school;  which  naturally  could 
not  cause  anybody  but  an  idiot  the  least  amuse- 
ment. 


THE  "TURBOT'S"  AUNT  207 

Well,  Bradwell  was  far  from  interesting  from  a 
mental  point  of  view,  having,  as  our  master,  Mr. 
Fortescue,  said,  apparently  outgrown  his  brains. 
He  was  just  at  his  seventeenth  birthday  when  these 
remarkable  events  happened;  but  at  first  glance, 
and,  in  fact,  until  you  talked  to  him,  you  would  at 
once  have  said  he  was  grown  up.  He  was  in  the 
Lower  Fifth,  and  it  really  looked  as  though  a 
master  was  in  the  Lower  Fifth  rather  -than  a  pupil. 
And  he  was  only  there  because  it  would  have  been 
a  burlesque  to  put  him  any  lower,  though  in  strict 
justice,  as  far  as  his  knowledge  was  concerned,  he 
would  have  been  in  his  right  place  in  the  Upper 
Third.  But  he  had  to  stop  in  the  Lower  Fifth, 
and  even  there  was  an  absurd  sight,  being  six  feet 
high  and  very  large  in  every  way,  and  having  a 
distinct  moustache,  which,  owing  to  its  being  black, 
could  not  be  hidden.  What  a  scissors  could  do  he 
did ;  but  it  was  there,  and  grew  by  night,  and  could 
not  be  concealed.  He  was  a  very  finely  made  chap, 
and  had  magnificent  muscles;  but  such  Avas  his 
awkwardness  and  stupidity  that  he  couldn't  even 
use  these  muscles  properly,  and  he  was  no  earthly 
good  even  in  the  gym.  At  games  he  failed  utterly, 
though  he  tried  hard ;  but  he  was  too  slow  even  for 
a  full-back  at  "  footer,"   and  couldn't  get  down 


208     THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

quick  enough  for  a  "  goaley  " ;  in  fact,  rapid  move- 
ment seemed  utterly  beyond  his  power.  At  cricket 
he  was  also  an  object  of  utter  scorn,  for  despite  his 
hands,  which  were  huge,  he  couldn't  hold  the  sim- 
plest catch;  and  despite  his  reach,  which  was  that 
of  a  six-foot  chap,  he  had  not  the  humblest  idea  of 
timing  a  ball,  or  the  vaguest  notion  of  how  to  play 
a  stroke.  In  fact,  such  was  his  unworthiness  that 
he  could  only  have  played  in  the  third  eleven,  and 
as  that  was  naturally  composed  of  kids  of  eleven 
and  twelve,  it  would  have  been  an  outrage  to  see 
him  in  it.  Bradwell  meant  well,  but  he  was  rather 
barred,  not  from  dislike,  but  simply  because  he 
had,  as  it  were,  grown  up  before  his  time,  and  had 
a  kid's  mind  in  a  man's  body.  In  fact,  he  fell  be- 
tween two  stools,  in  a  manner  of  speaking,  because, 
to  the  Sixth  and  the  masters,  he  was  a  thing  of 
nought,  while  to  those  who  had  a  mind  like  his 
own,  he  was  grown  up  and  no  use  in  any  way. 

I  was  the  only  one  at  Merivale  who  understood 
his  weird  case,  and  when  he  first  came,  I  let  him 
fag  for  me;  but  he  was  awful  as  a  fag,  and  such 
was  his  over-anxiety  to  please  and  shine  that  he 
never  did  either.  I  had,  in  fact,  to  chuck  him.  At 
sixteen  years  and  eleven  months  of  age  he  led 
rather  a  lonely  life;  but  when  the  War  broke  out, 


THE  "  TURBOT'S  "  AUNT  209 

he  said  he  was  very  interested  in  it,  and  asked  me 
sometimes  if  I  would  be  so  good  as  to  explain 
military  matters  to  him.  Which  I  did  in  the  sim- 
plest words  possible,  as  anything  like  regular  mili- 
tary terms  would  have  been  far  beyond  him.  On 
hearing  that  aeroplanes  have  great  difficulty  in  de- 
scending by  night,  he  invented  a  scheme  of  stretch- 
ing strong  nets  with  a  big  mesh  on  poles  ten  feet 
above  the  ground,  spread  over  half  a  mile  of  land- 
ing-place, to  catch  them.  This  showed  mind  in  a 
way;  but  he  never  appeared  to  have  any  real  mar- 
tial instinct,  and  when  once  a  girl  in  Merivale 
handed  him  a  white  feather,  he  stopped  and  took 
off  his  hat  and  said: 

"  I  quite  understand  what  you  mean,  but  I  shan't 
be  seventeen  for  a  fortnight  yet." 

This  the  girl  naturally  refused  to  believe,  and 
the  "  Turbot "  came  to  me  and  complained  about 
it. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  rather  backed  up  the  girl 
—  not  for  giving  ''  Turbot ''  a  white  feather,  which 
is  a  vulgar  and  silly  thing  to  give  anybody,  because 
you  never  know,  as  the  great  case  of  Fortescue 
showed  —  but  because  she  didn't  believe  "  Turbot  " 
when  he  said  he  was  only  just  about  to  be  seven- 
teen.    To  look  at  him,  he  might  easily  have  been 


210     THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

married,  which  shows  appearances  are  very  de- 
ceptive.    But,  anyway,  I  said: 

"  You  can't  blame  a  flapper  for  thinking  you  are 
of  age  to  join  the  Army,  Bradwell.  Anybody 
would  think  so,  and  lots  of  younger-looking  chaps 
than  you  have  said  they  were  eighteen,  and  been 
passed  without  a  murmur,  though  their  birth  cer- 
tificates would  have  given  them  away.  But  any- 
body six  feet  high  and  with  a  clearly  visible  black 
moustache,  and  with  your  muscles,  would  pass  the 
authorities,  and  you  may  bet  that  many  have." 

He  merely  goggled,  and  said  no  doubt  I  was 
right. 

I  must  tell  you  that  "  Turbot ''  had  no  father  or 
mother,  and,  in  fact,  nobody  but  a  single,  oldish 
aunt  who  lived  at  Plymouth.  But  he  had  a 
guardian,  who  sent  him  to  Merivale  when  his  fam- 
ily unfortunately  died;  and  at  first  he  stopped  at 
Merivale  in  the  holidays.  But  once  the  aunt  took 
him  for  a  fortnight  at  Easter ;  and  she  appeared  to 
like  him,  for,  after  that,  he  always  went  to  her. 
The  guardian  did  not,  however,  like  "  Turbot,"  and 
"  Turbot "  would  have  been  quite  content  to  stop 
at  Merivale  in  the  holidays,  rather  than  spend  his 
time  with  the  guardian,  who  had  no  friendly  feel- 
ing for  him.     In  fact,  you  may  say  that  "  Turbot  " 


THE  "TURBOT'S"  AUNT  211 

was  a  duty  rather  than  a  pleasure  to  the  gnardian. 

Then,  at  the  beginning  of  the  autumn  term,  in 
the  first  year  of  the  War,  "  Turbot's  "  aunt  wrote 
to  Dr.  Dunston  and  asked  if  "  Turbot "  might 
spend  Saturday  till  Monday  with  her,  because  it 
was  going  to  be  his  birthday ;  and  the  Doctor  gave 
permission. 

So  "  Turbot "  went,  and  naturally  was  not 
missed  in  any  way  till  Monday  morning.  Then  at 
roll-call  before  chapel,  the  "  Turbot's  "  well-known 
bleat  was  not  heard,  and  it  was  soon  perceived  that 
he'd  done  something  very  much  out  of  the  common. 

Nothing  had  been  heard  from  his  aunt,  appar- 
ently, and  so  a  telegram  was  dispatched  to  her, 
and,  as  no  reply  came  to  it.  Dr.  Dunston  began  to 
worry.  He  then  sent  off  a  telegram  to  the  guard- 
ian, and  the  excitement  decidedly  thickened. 
After  dinner  the  Doctor  sent  for  me,  as  head  boy, 
and  told  me  that  the  guardian  had  heard  nothing 
whatever  about  "Turbot." 

"  I  may  tell  you,  Travers,"  he  said,  "  though 
there  is  no  reason  to  repeat  it,  that  Bradwell  is  not 
persona  grata  with  the  gentleman  who  stands  to 
him  in  loco  parentis.  That  is  unfortunate  for 
Bradwell,  because  he  may  lack  friends  in  the 
future,  being  a  boy  without  any  mental  ability,  or 


212  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

that  charm  and  power  to  please  we  occasionally 
find  in  the  stupid  lad.  His  guardian,  however, 
evinces  no  uneasiness  at  the  disappearance  of 
Bradwell,  and  my  knowledge  of  human  nature  in- 
clines me  to  doubt  if  the  individual  in  question 
will  much  care  whether  Bradwell  returns  or  does 
not.  I  speak,  of  course,  in  confidence.  But  he  is 
a  busy  man,  and  has  a  large  family  of  his  own, 
with  its  concomitant  anxieties.  He  sends  his  own 
boys  to  Harrow,  and  it  is  not  for  us  to  judge  his 
motives  in  so  doing,  or  whether  they  are  guided  by 
disinterested  desire  for  the  future  welfare  of  an 
obscure  attorney's  sons,  or  influenced  by  that  spirit 
of  snobbishness  from  which  few  Englishmen  are 
entirely  free. 

"  Now,  I  shall  ask  you  this  afternoon,  Travers, 
to  undertake  a  little  mission  which  I  can  safely 
trust  to  you.  We  are,  as  you  know,  very  short- 
handed,  and  to  spare  a  master  is  almost  impossible. 
I  will  therefore  invite  you  to  go  as  far  as  Plymouth, 
call  at  No,  10  Mutley  Plain  Villas,  and  ask  to  see 
Miss  Mason,  the  maternal  aunt  of  Bradwell,  and 
his  sole  surviving  relative.  It  is  a  somewhat  deli- 
cate duty,  and  you  must  regard  it  as  a  compliment 
that  I  seek  your  aid.     Here  is  half  a  crown  for 


THE  "  TURBOT'S  "  AUNT  213 

your  return  railway  fare.  You  will  alight  at  Mut- 
ley  Station,  and  should  catch  the  five-thirty  train 
back  to  Merivale.  The  lady  has  not  responded  to 
my  telegram,  hence  my  desire,  before  j)utting  the 
matter  in  the  hands  of  the  police,  to  learn  all  she 
may  be  able  to  tell  us.  Present  my  card,  and  she 
will  see  you  at  once  if  at  home.  If  not,  wait  until 
she  returns." 

It  was  rather  a  responsible  thing,  and  a  great 
compliment  to  me.  So  I  went,  first  putting  on  my 
best  clothes  and  a  new  pair  of  gloves.  Arrived 
at  Plymouth,  I  got  out  at  Mutley,  and  easily  found 
Mutley  Plain  Villas,  which  were  only  a  quarter  of 
a  mile  from  the  railway.  The  house  was  small, 
but  very  neat  in  appearance,  and  the  door-knocker, 
which  was  of  highly  polished  brass,  gave  a  loud 
tapping  sound  into  the  hall.  There  was  no  sign  of 
the  "  Turbot." 

A  servant  of  considerable  age  answered  my 
knock,  and  when  I  asked  her  if  Miss  Mason  was 
at  home,  she  replied  that  she  was.  She  told  me 
to  walk  in,  which  I  did.  I  then  gave  her  Dr.  Dun- 
ston's  card,  and  was  shown  into  a  neat  drawing- 
room,  which  had  a  piano  in  it,  and  a  pile  of  khaki 
wool  on  a  sofa.     There  was  also  an  illustrated 


214  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

newspaper  in  the  room,  and  I  sat  down  on  a  chair 
and  read  the  illustrated  newspaper  until  Miss 
Mason  arrived. 

Presently  she  came,  and  proved  younger  than 
her  servant,  though  still  not  in  reality  young.  She 
was  unlike  Bradwell  in  every  way.  Even  her  eyes 
did  not  resemble  his,  being  black  and  small  —  you 
might  say  beady  —  and  her  mouth  had  thin  lips, 
which  revealed  lustrous  teeth,  which  might  have 
been  false  ones,  though,  on  the  other  hand,  they 
might  not. 

"  Curiously  enough,"  she  said,  "  I  was  just  writ- 
ing a  letter  to  Dr.  Dunston  when  you  arrived. 
Now  I  can  send  a  message  by  you  instead.  Are 
you  his  son?  " 

"  No,  Miss  Mason,"  I  answered.  "  I  am  Travers, 
the  head  boy  at  Merivale  School." 

"  How  interesting !  "  she  said.  "  And  what  are 
you  going  to  do  in  the  world,  Travers?" 

"  I  leave  next  term  —  this  is  my  last  term,  in 
fact  —  and  I  am  then  going  to  try  for  Woolwich," 
I  said. 

"That  means  the  Army,  of  course,"  she  an- 
swered.    "  I  hope  you  will  pass  well." 

I  then  thanked  her  for  this  kind  wish,  and  said 
I  hoped  so,  too. 


THE  "TURBOT'S"  AUNT  215 

"  Owing  to  the  War,"  I  explained,  "  there  is  no 
very  great  difficulty  in  passing  into  Woolwich  at 
present,  and  I  hope  to  get  on  quickly,  and  take  my 
place  in  the  fighting-line  before  the  War  is  over." 

She  approved  of  this. 

"  Quite  right,"  she  said.  "  I  never  wanted  to  be 
a  man  before  the  War,  but  I  do  now." 

She  spoke  in  a  very  martial  and  sporting  way, 
and  rang  for  tea. 

This  was  good  of  its  kind,  and  when  I  had  eaten 
pretty  well  everything,  after  handing  her  each  dish 
first,  she  asked  me  if  I  would  like  an  egg,  and,  of 
course,  I  said  I  would.  Then  she  ordered  the  old 
servant  to  boil  two  eggs;  and  the  old  servant  did 
so,  and  I  ate  them  both.  We  talked  of  the  War, 
and,  funnily  enough,  I  quite  forgot  all  about  the 
"  Turbot "  till  a  clock  chimed  on  the  mantelshelf 
the  hour  of  five. 

This,  as  it  were,  reminded  me  of  my  mission. 

"  I  must  soon  go  back  to  the  station,"  I  said,  "  so 
perhaps  you  will  now  be  so  kind  as  to  tell  me  about 
'  Turbot.'  " 

"And  who  is  'Turbot'?"  she  asked. 

So  I  had  to  explain  that  we  were  all  called  fish, 
owing  to  a  silly  joke,  and  I  also  hoped  that  she 
would  not  think  that  I  meant  anything  rude  to 


216  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

her  nephew  by  mentioning  him  in  that  way.     She 
was  not  in  the  least  annoyed,  and  said : 

"  Ralph  came  to  me  on  Saturday,  and  he  left  me 
on  Sunday  morning." 

"  Do  you  know  where  he  has  gone?  "  I  asked. 

And  she  said:  "I  haven't  the  slightest  idea 
where  he  has  gone,  Travers." 

"  That's  very  serious,"  I  said,  "  because  your 
nephew's  guardian  hasn't  the  slightest  idea, 
either." 

Her  lips  tightened  over  her  dazzling  teeth  at  the 
mention  of  the  guardian,  and  I  could  see  she  didn't 
like  him.  She  spoke  in  a  sneering  sort  of  voice 
and  said: 

"Ah!     Really?" 

Then,  feeling  there  was  nothing  more  to  discuss, 
I  got  up  and  cleared. 

"  Let  me  know  if  anything  transpires,"  she  said, 
and  not  happening  to  remember  exactly  what 
"  transpire  "  meant,  I  merely  said  that  no  doubt 
the  Doctor  would  tell  her  all  that  might  happen 
in  the  future  about  Bradwell. 

She  shook  hands  in  a  kindly  manner  and  saw 
me  to  the  gate.  And  such  was  her  friendly  spirit 
that  she  picked  a  small  blue  flower  and  gave  it  to 
me  to  wear. 


THE  "TURBOT'S"  AUNT  217 

"Put  it  in  your  buttonhole,"  she  said,  which  I 
did  do  until  I  was  out  of  sight,  and  could  chuck 
it  away  without  hurting  her  feelings. 

The  Doctor  didn't  seem  to  like  what  I  had  to 
say,  and  evidently  thought  I  hadn't  got  it  right. 

"  His  aunt  appears  as  callous  as  his  guardian," 
said  the  Doctor.  "  I  am  to  understand  that  he 
went  out  on  Sunday  morning  and  did  not  return, 
and  that  Miss  Masou  has  not  the  slightest  idea 
where  he  has  gone  to?  " 

"  That's  what  she  made  me  understand,  sir,"  I 
said. 

"  I  fail  to  credit  it,"  answered  the  Doctor.  Then 
he  dismissed  me,  rather  slightingly,  and  sent  for 
Brown,  who  always  does  the  detective  business  at 
Merivale. 

There  was  a  good  deal  of  quiet  excitement  about 
it,  and,  of  course,  we  all  thought  "  Turbot ''  would 
be  run  to  earth  in  a  few  hours,  or  days,  at  most. 
But  he  never  was;  and  though  the  police  looked 
into  the  matter,  and  hunted  far  and  wide,  they 
never  even  got  a  clue,  because  apparently  there 
wasn't  one  to  get.  In  fact,  "  Turbot  "  vanished  off 
the  face  of  the  earth  as  far  as  Merivale  was  con- 
cerned; and  it  was  a  nine  days'  wonder,  as  the 
saying  is,  and  no  light  was  ever  throwm  upon  it  till 


218     THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

long  afterwards.  The  aunt  was  cross-examined  by 
the  police ;  but  she  knew  nothing,  and  cared  less,  as 
Brown  said,  for  he  cross-examined  her  also.  All 
she  could  say  was  that  "  Turbot "  had  gone  out 
early,  and  not  come  home  in  time  for  church,  as 
she  naturally  expected  a  boy  brought  up  at  Meri- 
vale  to  do.  Which  was  one  in  the  eye  for  Meri- 
vale.  As  for  the  guardian,  he  offered  a  reward  of 
ten  pounds  for  the  recovery  of  "  Turbot,"  and  no 
more,  which  showed  the  market  value  of  "  Turbot  '^ 
in  that  guardian's  opinion. 

The  only  person  who  really  worried  was  the 
Doctor,  and  I  believe  he  didn't  leave  a  stone  un- 
turned to  rout  up  "  Turbot."  But  all  in  vain. 
He  had  entirely  disappeared,  and  being  so  ordinary 
in  appearance,  without  any  distinguishing  marks, 
he  simply  "  vanished  into  the  void,"  as  Tracey  said, 
and  we  sold  his  cricket  bat  at  auction,  and  one  or 
two  other  things  of  slight  value  which  we  found  in 
his  school  locker.  But  a  portrait  of  his  mother  we 
did  not  sell,  and  I  gave  it  to  the  Doctor,  who  sent 
it  to  the  aunt,  who  was  much  obliged  for  it,  and 
wrote  to  old  Dunston  with  great  thanks,  and  said 
she  would  keep  it  until  the  happy  day  when  "  Tur- 
bot "  turned  up  out  of  the  void  again.  And  that, 
I  believe,  made  the  Doctor  more  suspicious  than 


THE  "TURBOT'S"  AUNT  219 

ever,  for  he  always  believed  that  Miss  Mason  knew 
more  about  the  "  Turbot  "  than  she  pretended.  In 
fact,  he  told  Mr.  Fortescue  that  she  was  prevaricat- 
ing, and  Fortescue  said  it  looked  as  though  she 
might  be.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  Fortescue  had  his 
own  theory  about  ''  Turbot,"  and  though  he  never 
told  anybody  what  it  was  till  afterwards,  then  he 
told  everybody  because  he  proved  to  be  perfectly 
right. 

This  was  that  Fortescue,  who  wrote  such  splen- 
did War  poetry,  but  was  prevented  from  enlisting 
unfortunately  by  an  illness  of  the  aorta,  which  is 
part  of  the  heart,  and,  when  enlarged,  is  fearfully 
dangerous.  But  while  he  taught  at  Merivale,  his 
soul  was  entirely  in  the  War,  and  in  his  spare  time 
he  did  good  work,  chiefly  at  the  Red  Cross  Hospi- 
tal in  the  town,  where  fifty  wounded  men  were  al- 
ways on  hand.  When  they  got  well,  they  went  and 
others  came ;  and  sometimes,  when  the  War  slacked 
off,  the  numbers  sank  to  thirty -two,  or  even  thirty, 
and  then,  when  it  burst  out  more  fiercely,  they 
quickly  rose  to  fifty  again. 

Milly  Dunston  was  one  of  the  workers  there,  but 
only  for  swank  and  the  sake  of  the  uniform.  I 
believe  she  peeled  onions  and  shelled  peas,  and  cut 
up  meat  and  so  on  in  the  kitchen;  and  sometimes 


220  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

she  was  allowed  to  go  and  see  tlie  wounded ;  but  I 
never  heard  that  they  cared  much  for  her  until 
they  knew  she  worked  in  the  kitchen.  Then  they 
took  interest  in  her,  because  she  could  tell  them 
what  they  were  going  to  have  for  supper  that  night, 
and  what  they  were  going  to  have  for  dinner  next 
day,  which,  naturally,  are  things  very  important 
to  the  mind  of  a  wounded  hero. 

Mr.  Fortescue  was  well  liked  at  the  hospital, 
and  took  many  cigarettes  there,  also  books  suited 
to  the  Tommies,  and  he  got  to  be  so  popular  that 
there  was  a  fair  fight  for  him ;  and  if  he  favoured 
one  ward,  and  didn't  go  into  the  other  for  half  the 
time,  the  other  ward  got  vexed  about  it,  for  Tommy 
has  a  jealous  nature  in  some  ways,  though  so  he- 
roic in  the  field. 

Then  there  came  rather  a  bad  cot  case  called 
Ted  Marmaduke,  and  as  soon  as  he  arrived,  he  sent 
a  special  message  to  the  school  for  me  and  for 
Fortescue;  and  Fortescue  went  to  see  him. 

Of  course,  this  happened  long  after  I  had  left 
Merivale,  and  it  was,  in  fact,  my  brother  who  wrote 
to  me  about  it;  for  after  six  months  at  Woolwich, 
owing  to  luck  and  the  War,  and  so  on,  I  got  a 
commission  in  the  Royal  Engineers,  and  went  to 
France.     And  there  I  heard  from  Travers  minor 


THE  "TURBOT'S"  AUNT  221 

1 

about  the  chap  who  wanted  to  see  Fortescue.  He 
had  been  wounded  in  the  cheek  and  also  in  the  leg, 
and  his  face  was  almost  hidden;  but  his  eyes  were 
all  right,  and  what  was  Fortescue's  amazement  to 
see  the  eyes  of  Ted  Marmaduke  goggle  in  the  old 
familiar  way  the  moment  he  came  to  his  bedside. 
For  there  lay  the  "  Turbot,"  and  fearing  that  he 
was  going  to  die,  he  had  determined  to  tell  some- 
body the  truth,  and  not  die  anonymously,  so  to 
speak.  And  when  he  found  he  was  at  Merivale,  of 
all  places,  naturally  he  thought  of  Fortescue  and 
me.  But  I  was  gone  to  do  my  bit,  so  Fortescue 
went,  and  heard  the  true  story  of  the  wily 
"  Turbot." 

He  could  only  tell  it  in  pieces,  because  it  hurt 
him  awfully  to  talk,  and,  in  fact,  he  wasn't  al- 
lowed to  talk  much  at  a  time.  But  what  happened 
was  this.  He  had  gone  to  the  aunt  for  his  birth- 
day, and  told  her  in  secret  that  he  hated  Merivale 
worse  than  ever,  and  was  ashamed  to  be  there,  with 
a  moustache  and  everything;  and  she  was  a  very 
martial  and  fine  woman,  and  entirely  agreed  with 
him.  She  had  told  him  that  he  was  just  the  sort 
they  wanted  in  the  Army,  and  that  though  he 
could  not  distinguish  himself  at  school,  that  was 
nothing  at  such  a  time,  and  she  felt  positive  that  he 


222     THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

would  jolly  soon  distinguish  himself  in  the  Army, 
and  do  things  at  the  Front  that  would  make  Meri- 
vale  fairly  squirm  to  remember  how  it  had  treated 
him.  And  such  was  the  aunt's  warlike  instinct 
that  when  he  reminded  her  he  was  only  seventeen, 
she  scorned  him  for  remembering  it.  "  Go  to  the 
recruiting  people,"  she  said,  "  on  your  seventeenth 
birthday,  which  is  to-morrow,  and  when  they  ask 
you  how  old  you  are,  say  you'll  be  eighteen  on  your 
next  birthday,  which  will  be  true."  And  he  gladly 
did  so.  But  the  aunt  was  fearfully  crafty  as  well 
as  warlike,  for  when  "  Turbot "  decided  to  go  off 
and  enlist  at  Plymouth  under  his  own  name,  she 
pointed  out  that  he  would  instantly  be  traced  by 
Dr.  Dunston,  and  ignominiously  dragged  back  out 
of  the  Army  to  Merivale.  So  she  advised  him  to 
take  a  train  to  the  North  of  England,  and  enlist  up 
there,  which  he  did  do.  And  he  changed  his  name 
to  Ted  Marmaduke,  and  the  enlisting  people  in 
the  North  never  smelt  a  rat,  and  were  quite  agree- 
able to  take  him  when  he  said  he  would  be  eighteen 
next  birthday.  And  such  was  the  fine  strategy  of 
the  aunt  that  she  expressly  made  "  Turbot "  prom- 
ise not  to  write  a  line  to  her  till  he  was  under 
orders  for  the  Front.     Therefore,  when  she  was 


THE  "TURBOT'S"  AUNT  223 

asked  if  she  knew  where  he  was,  she  could  honestly 
say  she  didn't. 

Of  course,  long  before  he  came  back  wounded, 
he  was  entirely  forgotten  at  Merivale,  and  when 
Fortescue  discovered  him  in  our  Red  Cross  Hos- 
pital, and  then  confessed  that  he  had  always  be- 
lieved this  was  what  "  Turbot "  had  really  done, 
the  excitement  became  great,  and  many  of  the 
chaps  asked  to  be  allowed  to  go  and  see  him,  and 
some  were  allowed  to  do  so. 

But  it  was  not  till  the  "  Turbot "  had  recovered, 
and  was  going  back  to  fight,  that  Dr.  Dunston  for- 
gave him ;  and  he  never  forgave  the  aunt. 

Yet  that  amazing  aunt  was  more  than  a  fine 
strategist;  she  was  a  prophet  also,  for  Fortescue 
found  out  in  the  papers  that  Ted  Marmaduke,  of 
the  3rd  Yorkshires,  was  promoted  a  sergeant,  and 
had  won  the  D.C.M.  for  splendid  bravery  in  Gallip- 
oli,  just  as  his  aunt  had  always  prophesied  he 
would.  Of  course,  she  came  to  see  him  at  the  hos- 
pital, but  she  didn't  come  to  Merivale. 

When  he  got  nearly  right,  the  old  "  Turbot " 
took  tea  at  Merivale,  and  the  Doctor  let  the  past 
bury  the  past,  as  they  say,  and  made  a  speech,  and 
hoped  that  the  chaps   would  follow  "  Turbot's " 


224*  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

lead  in  certain  directions,  though  not  in  all.  But 
privately  to  the  "  Turbot "  he  said  more  than  this. 
In  fact,  he  dug  up  the  past  again,  and  reminded 
"  Turbot "  that  he  should  not  do  evil  that  good 
may  come. 

And  "  Turbot  "  quite  saw  this,  and  said  he  never 
would  again.  . 

Then  he  went  back  to  the  wars  once  more,  and 
had  good  luck,  I'm  glad  to  say,  and  before  he'd 
been  a  soldier  eighteen  months,  he  got  his  com- 
mission. For  though  such  a  mug  at  school,  the  mil- 
itary instinct  was  in  him  all  the  time,  and  the 
War  naturally  brought  it  out.  When  he  became 
Lieutenant  Bradwell,  his  guardian  tried  to  make 
friends  again;  but  he  scorned  him,  as  well  he 
might,  though  no  doubt  he  will  always  be  friendly 
with  his  crafty  aunt,  for  you  may  say  that  he  owed 
pretty  well  everything  to  her  masterly  mind. 


CORNWALLIS  AND  ME  AND  FATE 

Dr.  Dunston  was  always  awfully  great  on  the 
classic  idea  of  Fate.  He  made  millions  of  efforts 
to  make  us  understand  it,  but  failed.  Blades  said 
he  understood  it,  and  so  did  Abbott,  and,  of  course, 
the  Sixth  said  they  did.  But  they  always  pretend 
to  understand  everything,  including  the  War. 
Fate  is  the  same  as  Greek  tragedy,  and  a  very  dif- 
ficult subject  indeed. 

Anyway,  Cornwallis  and  me  couldn't  understand 
Fate,  or  how  it  worked  exactly,  until  that  far- 
famous  whole  holiday  and  the  remarkable  adven- 
ture which  made  Cornwallis  and  me  blaze  out  into 
great  fame,  though  only  for  a  short  while.  As 
long  as  it  lasted,  however,  the  fame  was  wonderful ; 
for  the  sudden,  curious  result  of  being  somebody, 
after  you  have  for  many  years  been  nobody,  not 
only  leaves  its  mark  on  your  own  character,  but 
quite  changes  the  opinion  of  other  people  about 
you,  and  also  the  way  they  behave  to  you.  Ene- 
mies slack  off  and  even  offer  to  become  friends, 
and  people  who  have  been  your  friends  when  you 

225 


226     THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

were  nobody,  redouble  in  their  affection,  and  even 
get  a  sort  of  feeble  fame  themselves,  owing  to  be- 
ing able  to  approach  you  as  a  matter  of  course  and 
not  as  a  favour. 

All  this  happened  to  Cornwallis  and  me;  and 
though  fame  is  said  to  have  a  very  bad  effect  on 
some  people,  and  make  them  get  above  themselves, 
like  the  Germans  and  Austrians,  for  instance,  in 
our  case,  though  dazzling  in  its  way,  the  fame  died 
out  almost  as  quickly  as  it  sprang  up.  In  fact, 
to  show  you  what  people  are,  and  what  envy  may 
do,  just  as  Cornwallis  and  me  began  to  sink  back 
into  our  usual  obscurity  in  the  Lower  Third,  some 
beasts,  such  as  Pegram  and  the  master.  Brown,  said 
in  public  that  the  whole  excitement  was  a  mild 
attack  of  hysteria  and  utter  footle,  and  that  neither 
Cornwallis  nor  me  had  done  anything  but  make 
little  asses  of  ourselves,  and  that  it  was  all  pure 
luck  and  not  fame  at  all. 

But,  anyway,  the  adventure  did  this  for  Corn- 
wallis and  also  for  me  —  it  explained  what  the 
Doctor  really  meant  by  Fate;  and  afterwards  we 
were  always  tremendously  keen  about  Fate,  and 
spoke  well  of  it,  though  before,  it  had,  if  anything, 
rather  bored  us,  because,  at  the  age  of  ten,  your 
fate  is  generally  so  far  off.     Until  the  great  ad- 


CORNWALLIS,  ME  AND  FATE  £27 

venture  I  can't  honestly  say  I  had  seen  Fate  bother- 
ing about  Cornwallis,  and  he  had  never  seen  it 
bothering  in  the  least  about  me;  but  afterwards, 
having,  as  you  may  say,  got  thoroughly  to  under- 
stand its  ways,  and  its  special  interest  in  us  on  a 
very  important  occasion  —  in  fact,  what  you  might 
call  a  matter  of  life  and  death  —  we  always  felt  a 
sharp  interest  in  it,  and  often  noticed  little  marks 
of  Fate  at  work  both  in  school  and  out  —  some- 
times for  us  and  sometimes  for  other  people.     Not, 
of  course,  always  for  us,  because,  as  Cornwallis 
said,  and  I  agreed,  we  weren't  everybody,  and  when 
it  came  to  prizes  and  getting  into  "  elevens,"  and 
other  advantages.  Fate  undoubtedly  favoured  vari- 
ous chaps  far  more  than  us.     But  as  I  pointed  out 
to  Cornwallis,  after  saving  our  lives  in  a  very  in- 
genious and  unexpected  way,  no  doubt  it  had  done 
enough  for  us  for  some  years,  and  intended  to 
give  us  a  rest.     We  both  saw  the  fairness  of  this, 
and  did  not  complain  in  the  least  at  our  rather  bad 
failures  in  the  Lower  Third  afterwards.     But,  curi- 
ously enough.  Dr.  Dunston,  though  so  well  up  in 
Greek  tragedy  and  the  ways  of  Fate  as  a  rule, 
missed  this,  and  said  our  reports  were  a  scandal 
and  a  source  of  the  utmost  discomfort  to  him,  and 
far  from  showing  our  gratitude  to  Fate  as  we  ought 


228  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

to  have  shown  it  after  the  terrible  affair  of  "  Foster 
Day.'^ 

"  Foster  Day  "  was  an  important  day  at  Meri- 
vale.  It  arose  from  the  mists  of  antiquity,  as  they 
say,  because  among  the  first  pupils  old  Dunston 
ever  had,  when  he  started  Merivale,  was  a  chap 
called  Foster.  He  was  very  rich,  and  his  father 
lived  at  Daleham,  on  the  sea  coast,  and  had  a  man- 
sion and  thousands  of  acres  of  land  running  down 
to  the  sea.  This  Foster  seems  to  have  liked  the 
Doctor,  and  been  a  great  success  at  Merivale;  and 
his  rich  father  evidently  liked  the  Doctor,  too,  and 
so,  when  young  Foster  had  the  bad  luck  to  fall  for 
his  country  in  the  Boer  War,  the  rich  father  Foster 
built  a  beautiful  and  precious  chapel  to  his  mem- 
ory at  Daleham,  and  had  his  soldier  son  carved 
in  pure  marble  and  put  in  the  chapel.  It  was 
known  as  a  memorial  chapel,  and  simply  couldn't 
be  beaten  in  its  way.  And,  not  content  with  do- 
ing this,  the  rich  father  arranged  with  Dunston 
that  fifty  boys  from  Merivale  should  once  every 
year  come  to  a  service  in  this  chapel,  and,  after  the 
service  was  over,  be  entertained  in  his  grounds  and 
on  the  sea-shore  with  games  and  luscious  foods. 
The  Doctor  fell  in  with  this  excellent  plan  readily, 
and  now  for  some  years,  on  the  seventh  day  of  July, 


CORNWALLIS,  ME  AND  FATE  229 

which  was  the  day  the  splendid  young  soldier  Fos- 
ter had  fallen,  fifty  chaps  from  Merivale  drove 
over  in  brakes  to  Daleham  and  attended  the  me- 
morial service,  and  sang  a  hymn,  and  afterwards 
enjoyed  themselves  in  the  spacious  grounds  and  on 
the  beach.  For  though  not  actually  belonging  to 
the  rich  old  Foster,  the  beach  finished  off  his  es- 
tates, and  so  he  had  a  special  sort  of  right  to  it, 
and  had  built  a  boat-house,  where  he  kept  a  steam 
launch  and  other  vessels. 

The  day  came  round  as  usual,  and,  by  rather 
exceptional  luck,  Cornwallis  and  myself  got  into 
the  fifty,  for  nobody  was  barred,  and  it  was  always 
arranged  that  a  certain  number  of  chaps  from  the 
lower  school  should  join  the  giddy  throng.  So 
we  went  in  white  flannels  and  the  school  blazers, 
little  knowing  what  lav  before  us. 

The  day  was  slightly  clouded  by  the  fact  that 
Brown  was  the  master  who  took  us,  for  Brown 
loves  to  display  his  power  before  strangers,  and 
make  us  look  as  small  as  possible  in  order  that  he 
may  shine.  But  the  great  Mr,  Foster  —  though 
what  he  had  done  that  was  great  I  don't  know  — 
saw  through  Brown  with  ease,  and  told  him  we 
must  do  what  we  liked,  and  have  a  good  time  in 
every  way  —  not,  in  fact,  hampered  by  Brown. 


230  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

After  the  service  in  the  chapel,  where  some  good 
singing  was  done  by  us,  and  a  clergyman  preached 
a  rather  lougish  sermon  on  duty  and  so  on,  the 
solemn  business  of  the  day  began,  and  we  had  an 
ample  meal.  When  I  tell  you  that  there  were 
enough  raspberries  and  cream  for  all,  I  need  add 
no  more.  If  all  those  raspberries  had  been  put  in 
one  pile,  we  should  have  had  "  no  small  part  of  a 
mountain,"  as  Virgil  so  truly  says. 

The  great  thing  after  dinner  was  to  go  and  bathe 
and  ramble  on  the  shore.  This  was  the  time  that 
Brown  could  be  most  easily  escaped,  and  as  he  had 
to  keep  his  attention  on  the  chaps  who  went  swim- 
ming, those  who  did  not  were  able  to  enjoy  them- 
selves in  various  interesting  ways. 

The  tide  was  out,  and,  by  a  little  dodging  be- 
hind rocks,  Cornwallis  and  me,  who  did  not  bathe, 
were  able  gradually,  as  it  were,  to  slip  out  of  the 
danger  zone ;  which  we  did  do.  A  magnificent  and 
interesting  beach  spread  out  before  us,  and  we  de- 
cided to  explore  it.  So  we  retreated  fast  for  some 
distance  till  a  cliff  jutted  out  and  entirely  con- 
cealed us,  and  then  we  went  slower  and  explored 
as  we  went.  Cornwallis  had  a  watch,  and  as  there 
was  no  serious  work  on  hand  till  tea  at  five  o'clock, 
we  had  more  than  two  hours. 


CORNWALLIS,  ME  AND  FATE  231 

We  did  some  natural  history,  and  found  small 
pools  full  of  marine  wonders,  such,  as  sea  anemones 
and  blenny  fish,  which  in  skilled  hands  can  be  made 
as  tame  as  white  mice,  and  can  live  out  of  the  sea 
between  tides.  We  also  collected  shells,  and,  much 
to  my  amusement,  I  collected  one  shell  which  I 
thought  was  empty,  until  I  felt  a  gentle  crawling 
in  my  trousers  pocket,  and  discovered  that  a  hermit 
crab  lived  in  the  shell,  and  was  frantically  trying 
to  escape.  This,  of  course,  I  allowed  him  to  do, 
and  no  doubt  he  is  puzzling  to  this  day  about  what 
happened  to  upset  his  usual  life. 

On  we  went,  and  then  the  beach  got  narrower, 
and  I  said  it  was  natural,  but  Cornwallis  thought 
not.  He  thought  the  tide  was  coming  in,  which 
would  account  for  the  increasing  narrowness  of 
the  beach. 

I  said : 

"  In  that  case,  Cornwallis,  we  had  better  go  back, 
because  you  can  see,  by  the  marks  on  the  cliffs,  that 
the  tide  will  come  here  in  large  quantities,  and, 
in  fact,  the  water  will  be  jolly  deep." 

And  Cornwallis  said  he  supposed  it  would.  The 
time  also  was  getting  on,  and  we  found  it  was 
past  four.  But,  of  course,  we  meant  getting  back 
fast,  with  an  occasional  run,  and  had  allowed  half 


^32  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

the  time  to  get  back  that  we  allowed  to  go  out. 

We  were  just  turning,  after  going  a  few  hundred 
yards  farther,  when  a  most  interesting  thing  ap- 
peared. The  cliffs  hung  over  rather,  and  were 
made  of  red  sandstone,  and  very  steep;  but  ahead 
of  us  was  a  ledge  of  rock  half-way  up  the  cliff,  and 
on  it  a  mysterious  little  house  made  of  bits  of  old 
boat  and  painted  with  tar.  It  was  extraordinary 
to  see  such  a  thing  in  such  a  lonely  spot,  and 
Cornwallis,  who  is  rather  suspicious,  owing  to  the 
War  and  being  a  Boy  Scout,  wondered  if  it  was 
all  right.  Because,  if  you  are  once  a  Boy  Scout, 
as  Travers  minor  pointed  out,  you  are  always  a 
Boy  Scout,  and  though  you  may  not  be  scouting  in 
a  professional  sort  of  way,  yet,  if  anything  peculiar 
happens,  or  you  get  a  chance  of  doing  good  to  the 
country,  you  must  instantly  look  into  it. 

So  Cornwallis  decided  to  go  and  examine  this 
queer  shed,  and  I  went  with  him.  The  door  was 
open,  but  we  saw  no  signs  of  life.  It  was  a  solid 
building  made  of  heavy  timbers,  and  there  was  a 
padlock  on  the  door.  Inside  was  a  pleasant  smell 
of  tar  and  cobbler's  wax  and  fish.  It  seemed  to 
belong  to  a  mariner  of  some  sort;  but,  on  the 
other  hand,  what  mariner  could  possibly  want  to 
make  his  house  in  such  a  weird  spot?    There  was 


CORNWALLIS,  ME  AND  FATE  233 

no  bed  or  washing  basin  or  chest  of  drawers,  to 
show  that  the  stranger  lived  here,  but  there  were 
many  interesting  things,  including  a  lobster-pot, 
a  telescope,  and  a  large  lantern  of  the  sort  used  on 
board  ship. 

I  saw  nothing  peculiarly  suspicious,  but  Corn- 
wallis  did.  From  the  first  he  took  rather  a  serious 
view  of  it,  and  when  he  found  a  green  tin  full  of 
petrol,  his  face  went  white,  and  he  said  it  was 
Fate. 

I  said: 

"What  the  dickens  do  you  mean,  Comwallis?" 

And  he  said: 

"  I  mean,  Towler,  that  this  is  the  hiding-place  of 
a  German  spy.  There's  a  telescope  with  which  he 
picks  up  periscopes,  and  there's  a  lamp,  with  which 
he  signals  to  the  submarines  by  night,  and  there's 
the  petrol  he  takes  to  them  to  replenish  their  tanks. 
And  this  shows  the  Doctor  was  right :  you  can  get 
Fate  in  real  life  as  well  as  Greek  tragedies." 

And  I  said : 

"  But  the  prawn-nets  and  fishing-lines  and  corks 
and  paint,  and  so  on?" 

And  he  said: 

"  These  things  are  merely  blinds  to  distract  the 
eye  from  the  others." 


234  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAK 

So  I  said: 

"Well,  what  are  you  going  to  do  about  it?" 

And  he  said : 

"  I  am  going  straight  back,  and  after  tea,  or 
even  before,  I  shall  tell  the  great  Mr.  Foster  there 
is  a  pro-German  traitor  under  his  cliff,  and  offer 
to  show  him  the  way  to  the  spot." 

"ril  help,"  I  said.  "But  the  thing  is  to  be 
careful,  and  surprise  the  spy  at  his  work." 

Just  as  I  said  these  words,  curiously  enough, 
the  spy  surprised  us,  and  we  found  ourselves  in  a 
position  that  wanted  enormous  presence  of  mind. 
Suddenly  we  heard  the  sound  of  heavy  feet  out- 
side, and  as  there  was  only  one  way  up  to  the  hut, 
it  was  clear  we  could  not  escape  without  being 
seen.  And  if  seen,  of  course,  our  object  was  lost, 
for  the  spy  would  make  a  bolt  of  it. 

The  question  was  where  to  hide,  and,  by  the  best 
possible  luck,  there  was  a  chance  to  do  so.  A  big 
tarpaulin  hung  on  a  nail  on  the  side  of  the  hut, 
and  it  was  of  great  size,  and  came  nearly  to  the 
ground,  while  at  its  feet  was  a  seaman's  box.  Ow- 
ing to  the  fortunate  smallness  of  Cornwallis  and 
me,  there  was  ample  room  for  concealment  behind 
the  tarpaulin,  and  our  feet  were  hidden  by  the 
box.     So  we  got  behind  it  and  hardly  dared  to 


CORNWALLIS,  ME  AND  FATE  235 

breathe,  though,  just  before  the  traitor  came  in, 
Cornwallis  had  time  to  whisper  to  me: 

"  If  he's  come  for  his  tarpaulin  coat,  we're  done 
for,  and  he'll  very  likely  kill  us ! " 

And  I  whispered  to  him : 

"  Be  hopeful.  Fate  may  be  on  our  side,  and 
it's  not  the  weather  for  a  tarpaulin  coat,  anyway." 

Then  the  spy  came  in,  and  though  I  was  not  able 
to  see  him,  Cornwallis,  by  a  lucky  chance,  got  a 
buttonhole  of  the  coat  level  with  his  eye,  and  saw 
the  fearful  spectacle  of  the  spy. 

He  was  a  dreadful  object,  with  wickedness  fairly 
stamped  on  him,  so  Cornwallis  said  afterwards. 
He  was  a  big  man  with  humpbacked  shoulders  and 
a  cocoanut-like  head,  far  too  small  for  his  body 
and  legs.  He  was  grey,  and  had  a  shaggy  beard 
and  a  wide  mouth  that  showed  his  teeth.  These 
were  broken  and  black.  His  nose  was  flat  and 
small,  and  his  eyes  rolled  in  his  head  as  he  looked 
round  his  hut.  They  were  black  and  ferocious  to 
a  most  savage  extent.  He  kept  making  a  snorting 
sound,  which  was  his  manner  of  breathing.  He 
wore  dirty  white  trousers  and  a  jersey,  and  upon 
his  feet  were  dirty  canvas  shoes.  He  had  no  hat, 
and  he  didn't  look  the  sort  of  person  that  Fate 
would  be  interested  in.     But  you  never  know.     He 


236  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

suspected  nothing,  and  had  not  seen  us  come  in, 
which  was  the  great  fear  in  my  mind. 

The  creature  did  not  stop  long,  yet  long  enough 
to  give  himself  away  for  ever  as  a  spy,  for  he  took 
one  of  the  green  tins  of  petrol,  and  then,  saying 
some  English  swear  words  to  himself  of  the  worst 
kind,  went  out  and  slammed  the  door  behind  him. 
We  nearly  shouted  with  joy,  but  a  moment  later 
our  joy  was  changed  into  the  most  terrible  sorrow, 
because  the  spy  fastened  the  door  behind  him.  We 
heard  a  chain  rattle  and  a  padlock  click,  so  there 
we  were,  entirely  at  the  mercy  of  a  creature  evi- 
dently quite  dead  to  pity  in  every  way.  This  was, 
of  course,  Fate  again,  as  Cornwallis  pointed  out. 

There  was  a  window  about  a  foot  square  high  up 
in  the  roof  of  the  hut,  and  when  the  spy  shut  the 
door  and  locked  us  in,  everything  became  dark  ex- 
cepting for  the  light  from  this  narrow  window. 
Therefore,  when  we  were  sure  our  enemy  had  gone, 
and  there  was  not  a  sound  outside,  I  got  on  to  a 
table,  and  Cornwallis  climbed  on  my  back,  from 
which  he  was  able  to  look  out  through  the  window. 
Luckily  it  faced  the  sea,  and  Cornwallis  reported 
that  the  sea  had  come  a  great  deal  nearer,  and 
that  the  spy  was  only  about  fifty  yards  off.  He 
stood  on  a  sort  of  pier  of  rocks,  and  was  pulling  in 


CORNWALLIS,  ME  AND  FATE  237 

a  rope  to  whicli  was  attached  a  small  motor-boat. 

Then  naturally  I  wanted  to  get  on  Cornwallis's 
shoulders,  but  he  told  me  not  to  move  for  a  mo- 
ment. Then  he  said  that  the  spy  had  got  into  the 
boat  and  was  evidently  going  to  sea.  And  then  he 
said  he  had  gone. 

I  next  climbed  on  to  Cornwallis,  and  so  proved 
the  truth  of  his  words,  for  I  distinctly  saw  the 
motor-boat  speed  off  with  the  spy  in  it.  I  also  saw 
that  the  tide  had  come  in,  and  soon  it  was  actually 
beating  against  the  rocks  twenty-five  feet  or  so  be- 
low us. 

When  the  motor-boat  had  disappeared  in  a  west- 
erly direction,  Cornwallis  and  me  got  down  off  the 
table  and  considered  what  we  ought  to  do. 

"  The  first  thing  is  to  make  every  possible  effort 
to  escape  at  any  cost,"  I  said.  But  he  said  that  he 
had  already  thought  of  that,  and  felt  pretty  cer- 
tain it  was  beyond  our  power.  The  window  seemed 
the  only  hopeful  place;  but  it  was  made  not  to 
open,  and  the  glass  was  thick,  and  Cornwallis  said 
we  couldn't  have  got  through  the  hole,  even  if 
there  had  been  no  glass.     But  I  said : 

"  It  is  well  known,  Cornwallis,  that  if  a  man 
can  get  his  head  through  a  hole,  he  can  get  his 
body  through." 


238  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

And  he  said : 

"  It  isn't  well  known  at  all.  You  might  because 
you  have  got  a  head  like  a  tadpole,  but  I  couldn't." 

I  said  I  was  sure  I  had  read  it  somewhere,  but, 
anyway,  it  didn't  matter.  We  examined  the  hut 
thoroughly,  and  found  it  was  only  too  well  and 
solidly  made.  We  were  utter  prisoners,  in  fact, 
and,  owing  to  the  spy  not  knowing  it,  might  very 
likely  be  left  to  die  of  starvation.  He  might  even 
have  gone  to  join  a  submarine,  and  never  come 
back. 

"  Perhaps  he  does  know  we  are  here  all  the 
time,"  said  Cornwallis.  "  Perhaps  he  spotted  us, 
and  pretended  he  didn't.  In  that  case  he  may  have 
locked  us  in  deliberately  to  starve  us,  not  caring 
to  waste  a  shot  on  us." 

This  thought  depressed  us  a  good  deal,  and  pres- 
ently the  sun  sank  and  the  light  began  to  fade,  and 
a  seagull  that  settled  outside  on  the  roof  uttered 
a  melancholy  and  doleful  squawk. 

Of  course,  we  were  far  from  despairing  yet,  and 
Cornwallis  made  a  cheerful  remark,  and  reminded 
me  that  if  we  had  eaten  our  last  meal  on  earth,  at 
any  rate  it  was  a  jolly  good  one. 

And  I  said: 

"  There  may  be  food  concealed  here,  for  that 


CORNWALLIS,  ME  AND  FATE  239 

matter.     We'd  better  liave  a  good  hunt,  and  look 
into  every  hole  and  corner  before  it  is  dark." 

This  we  did  without  success.  There  were  many 
strange  things  there,  including  pieces  of  wreckage, 
a  bit  of  an  old  ship's  steering-wheel,  and  a  brass 
bell  with  a  ship's  name  on  it;  but  there  was  noth- 
ing eatable  excepting  some  fish  to  bait  a  lobster- 
pot  ;  and  the  fish  hadn't  been  caught  yesterday,  and 
we  had  by  no  means  reached  the  stage  of  exhaustion 
in  which  we  could  regard  it  as  food. 

Cornwallis  said: 

"  As  a  matter  of  fact,  our  great  enemy  will  be 
thirst.  I  am  frightfully  thirsty  already,  for  that 
matter." 

And  I  said : 

"  So  am  I,  now  you  mention  it." 

As  the  light  died  away,  we  held  a  sort  of  a  coun- 
cil, and  tried  to  decide  what  exactly  was  our  duty 
—  to  England  firstly,  and  to  ourselves  secondly. 
We  talked  a  good  deal,  until  our  voices  grew  queer 
to  ourselves,  and  it  all  came  back  to  the  same 
simple  fact  —  our  duty  was  to  get  out,  and  we 
couldn't. 

Then  I  had  the  best  idea  that  had  yet  come  to  us. 

I  said; 

"  As  we  can't  get  out,  we  must  try  and  get  some- 


240  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

body  in  the  outer  world  to  let  us  out.  The  only 
question  is,  shall  we  attract  anybody  but  the  spy 
if  we  raise  an  alarm?  '' 

Cornwallis  said  of  course  that  was  the  question ; 
but  it  didn't  matter,  because  we  couldn't  raise  an 
alarm. 

I  said: 

"  If  we  howl  steadily  together  once  every  sixty 
seconds  by  your  watch,  like  a  minute-gun  at  sea, 
somebody  is  bound  to  hear  sooner  or  later." 

And  he  said : 

"  Far  from  it,  Towler.  We  shall  only  tire  our- 
selves out,  and  get  hungry,  as  well  as  thirsty,  for 
no  good.  Our  voices  wouldn't  go  any  distance 
through  these  solid  walls,  and,  even  if  they  did,  we 
are  evidently  in  a  frightfully  lonely  and  secluded 
l^lace,  miles  and  miles  from  civilization,  else  the 
spy  wouldn't  have  chosen  it  for  his  operations." 

I  admitted  this,  but  we  did  try  a  yell  or  two. 
The  result  was  feeble,  and  I  myself  said  that  if  any 
belated  traveller  heard  it,  he  would  only  murmur 
a  prayer  and  cross  himself,  and  hurry  on,  like  they 
do  in  books.  Then  Cornwallis  decided  to  break  the 
window.  He  didn't  know  why  exactly,  but  he  felt 
he  wanted  to  be  up  and  doing  in  a  sort  of  way. 
Besides,  it  was  beastly  fuggy  in  the  spy's  den;  so 


CORNWALLIS,  ME  AND  FATE  241 

we  broke  the  window  with  a  boat-hook,  and  I  got 
on  the  shoulders  of  Cornwallis  and  had  a  good  yell 
through  it ;  but  no  answer  came. 

Then  another  idea  struck  me,  and  it  was  un- 
doubtedly this  idea  that  saved  the  situation.  We 
got  the  old  ship's  bell  and  hung  it  up  on  a  rope  as 
near  the  window  as  possible,  and  hammered  it  with 
the  boat-hook,  taking  turns  of  five  minutes  each. 

This  created  an  immense  volume  of  sound,  and 
though,  of  course,  it  was  more  —  far  more  —  likely 
to  bring  the  spy  back  than  anybody  else,  we  had 
now  reached  a  pitch  of  despair,  and  would  have 
even  welcomed  the  spy  in  a  sort  of  way.  Corn- 
wallis from  time  to  time  still  worried  about  our 
duty,  but  I  had  long  passed  that,  for  it  was  nine 
o'clock.  So  at  last  I  told  him  to  shut  up  and  hit 
the  bell  harder. 

It  was  now  quite  dark,  and  from  time  to  time 
heavy  drops  of  rain  fell  through  the  window.  The 
sea-going  lamp  would  have  been  very  useful  now, 
for  we  might  have  signalled  with  it;  but  though 
there  was  an  oil-lamp  in  it,  we  had  no  matches,  and 
it  was  therefore  useless. 

Then,  in  a  lull,  when  I  was  handing  over  the  boat- 
hook  to  Cornwallis,  whose  turn  it  was  to  hammer 
the  bell,  we  distinctly  heard  the  stealthy  sound  of 


M2  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

the  motor-boat  returning,  and  Cornwallis,  mount- 
ing my  shoulders,  and  nearly  breaking  my  neck  in 
his  excitement,  reported  a  red  light  below. 

Then  he  heard  several  harsh  voices. 

Cornwallis  said : 

"We  are  now  probably  done  for,  Towler.  The 
spy  has  evidently  been  to  a  submarine,  and  he's 
heard  the  bell,  and  you  can  pretty  easily  guess 
what  submarine  Germans  will  do  to  us.  In  fact, 
our  Fate  is  right  bang  off." 

I  said: 

"  Surely  they  wouldn't  kill  two  kids  like  us?  " 

And  he  said: 

"  Killing  kids  is  their  chief  sport.  They  can't 
be  too  young  —  from  babies  upward." 

So  it  looked  pretty  putrid  in  every  way,  and  it 
wouldn't  be  true,  and  it  wouldn't  be  believed,  if 
I  said  Cornwallis  and  me  weren't  in  the  funk  of 
our  lives. 

But  the  awful  moments  didn't  last  long,  for,  al- 
most before  the  padlock  was  undone,  what  should 
we  hear  but  the  well  known  yelp  of  Brown ! 

Our  first  thought  was  that  the  crew  of  a  German 
submarine  had  also  got  Brown;  but  even  in  our 
present  condition  we  felt  that  was  too  mad.  All 
the  same,  when  he  actually  appeared,  with  two 


CORNWALLIS,  ME  AND  FATE  243 

other  men  and  the  spy,  he  looked  such  a  ghastly 
object,  and  was  so  white  and  wild,  that  it  seemed 
clear  that  he  was  in  a  mess  of  some  kind. 

What  he  said  when  we  both  appeared  in  the 
lantern  light  was : 

"Thank  God!" 

For  the  first  and  last  time  in  his  life  he  was 
apparently  glad  to  see  us.  But  after  this  expres- 
sion of  joy,  he  instantly  became  beastly,  and,  in  fact, 
so  much  so,  that  a  man  behind  him,  who  did  not 
fear  him,  told  him  not  to  talk  so  roughly  to  us  at 
such  a  moment. 

This  man  turned  out  to  be  no  less  a  man  than 
the  great  Mr.  Foster  himself,  and  he  explained  to 
us  that  we  had  put  everybody  to  frightful  anxiety 
and  distress,  and  that,  in  fact,  he  had  feared  the 
worst. 

This  much  surprised  us,  and  what  surprised  us 
still  more  was  Mr.  Foster's  attitude  to  the  spy,  for 
he  called  him  "Joe,"  and  treated  him  in  a  most 
friendly  manner. 

We  all  went  back  to  the  motor-boat,  and  while 
it  tore  away  to  the  landing-place  under  Mr.  Foster's 
beach,  we  told  our  story.  During  this  narrative, 
which  was  listened  to  very  carefully,  the  man  called 
Joe  made  several  remarks  of  a  familiar  nature. 


244     THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

which  showed  he  was  not  in  the  least  afraid  of 
anybody,  and  we  found  out  later  that  he  was  an 
old  and  trusted  servant  of  Mr.  Foster's,  who  lived 
at  Daleham,  and  who  managed  Mr.  Foster's  motor- 
boat,  and  caught  lobsters  for  him  and  fish  of  many 
kinds,  and  was,  in  fact,  a  sort  of  family  friend  of 
long  standing.  It  was  admitted,  however,  that 
Joe  was  very  queer  to  look  at,  and  also  odd  in  his 
ways.  This  arose  entirely  from  his  peculiar  Fate, 
because  Fate  had  had  a  dash  at  him  too,  and  when 
a  young  man,  he  had  once  gone  out  fishing,  and  re- 
turned to  find  that  during  his  absence  his  wife  had 
run  away  for  ever  with  another  mariner.  This 
was  such  a  surprise  to  him  that  it  had  quite  turned 
his  head  for  a  time,  and,  in  fact,  he  had  been  odd 
ever  since. 

Having  told  our  tale,  we  ventured  to  ask  why 
everybody  had  feared  the  worst,  and  Mr.  Foster 
explained  the  situation,  and  showed  what  a  splen- 
did and  remarkable  bit  of  work  Fate  had  really 
done  for  Cornwallis  and  me. 

He  said: 

"  What  did  you  intend  to  do  when  you  left  Joe's 
hut?" 

And  I  said: 

"  We  were  going  to  tear  back  along  the  beach. 


CORNWALLIS,  ME  AND  FATE  245 

sir,  and  give  the  alarm,  because  we  thought  he 
was  a  pro-German  spy." 

Joe  gurgled  at  this,  but  did  not  condescend  to 
answer. 

"And  do  you  know  what  would  have  happened 
in  that  case?"  asked  Mr.  Foster. 

"  You  w  ould  have  explained  to  us  that  we  were 
on  a  false  scent,  sir,"  said  Coruwallis. 

"  No,  my  child,  I  should  not,"  answered  Mr. 
Foster,  "  for  the  very  good  reason  that  I  should 
never  have  seen  either  of  you  again  alive.  Nor 
would  anybody  else.  If  you  had  started  to  go  back 
by  the  beach,  you  would  both  have  been  overtaken 
by  the  tide  and  most  certainly  been  drowned." 

"  Crikey ! "  said  Cornwallis  under  his  breath  to 
me. 

"  Yes,"  continued  the  good  and  great  Mr.  Foster, 
"  if  Joe  here,  quite  ignorant  of  the  fact  that  you 
were  trespassing  in  his  store  shed,  had  not  turned 
the  key  upon  you  both,  you  would  neither  of  you 
be  alive  to  tell  your  story  now." 

Somehow  we  never  thought  we  were  trespassing, 
but  doing  our  duty  to  England.  It  just  shows  how 
different  a  thing  looks  from  different  points  of  view. 

"You  ought  to  be  very  thankful,"  said  Mr. 
Foster,  "  and  I  hope  this  terrible  experience  will 


246  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

leave  its  mark  in  your  hearts,  my  boys.  You  have 
been  spared  a  sad  and  untimely  death,  and  I  trust 
that  the  memory  of  this  night  will  help  you  both  to 
justify  your  existence  in  time  to  come." 

We  said  we  trusted  it  would. 

Then  Brown,  of  course,  put  in  his  oar. 

"And  if  you  had  used  your  eyes,  Towler  and 
Cornwallis,  as  I  have  tried  so  often  to  make  you," 
he  squeaked,  "  you  would  have  seen  a  notice  on  the 
cliff  warning  people  not  to  go  beyond  a  certain 
point,  as  the  tides  were  very  dangerous." 

"  We  were  studying  the  wonders  of  Nature,  sir," 
I  answered,  in  rather  a  sublime  tone  of  voice,  be- 
cause this  was  no  time  for  sitting  on  Cornwallis 
and  me.  And  just  then  the  motor-boat  came  to 
shore,  and  it  was  found  that  we  could  catch  the  last 
train  back  to  Daleham.  So  we  caught  it.  Of 
course,  all  the  other  chaps  had  gone  back  in  the 
brakes  ages  ago. 

Mr.  Foster  blessed  us,  before  the  train  started, 
in  a  very  affectionate  and  gentlemanly  way;  but 
Brown  did  not  bless  us  on  the  journey  back.  In 
fact,  he  said  that  he  should  advise  the  Doctor  to 
flog  us.  We  preserved  a  dignified  silence.  He 
couldn't  send  a  telegram  on  in  advance,  as  the 
office  was  shut,  and  therefore,  when  we  arrived  at 


CORNWALLIS,  ME  AND  FATE  247 

Merivale,  it  was  rather  triumphant  in  a  way,  and 
the  news  of  our  safe  return  created  a  great  sensa- 
tion. In  the  excitement,  food  for  us  was  over- 
looked entirely,  until  Cornwallis  told  the  matron 
we  had  had  nothing  to  eat  since  dinner.  Food  was 
then  provided.  The  Doctor  said  very  little  until 
the  following  day,  and  then  he  told  the  whole  story 
to  the  school  after  morning  prayers ;  and  not  until 
we  heard  it  from  him  did  we  realize  what  a  good 
yarn  it  really  was. 

But  nothing  was  done  against  us,  much  to 
Brown's  disappointment,  and  from  the  way  he 
hated  Cornwallis  and  me  afterwards,  I  believe  he 
got  ragged  in  private  for  not  keeping  his  eye  on 
us. 

We  wrote  a  very  sporting  letter  to  Mr.  Foster, 
and  said  we  should  not  forget  his  great  kindness  as 
long  as  we  lived;  and  we  also  wrote  home  and 
scared  up  ten  pounds  for  Joe,  because  he  had  locked 
us  up  and  saved  our  lives.  It  was  an  enormous  lot 
of  money,  and  far  beyond  what  we  expected.  My 
father  sent  five,  and  the  mother  of  Cornwallis  also 
sent  five;  and  Cornwallis  truly  said  it  showed  that 
my  father  and  his  mother  mast  think  much  more 
highly  of  our  lives  than  they  had  ever  led  us  to  be- 
lieve. 


248  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

In  fact,  so  excited  was  the  mother  of  Cornwallis 
about  it  that  she  couldn't  wait  till  the  end  of  the 
term,  but  had  to  come  and  see  him  and  kiss  him, 
and  realize  that  he  was  still  all  there.  But  my 
father  waited  till  the  end  of  the  term  for  me. 

He  is  rather  a  hard  sort  of  man,  compared  to 
such  a  man  as  Mr.  Foster,  for  instance;  and  when 
I  did  go  home  and  explained  all  about  what  Fate 
had  done,  he  said  he  hoped  that  I  would  not  give 
Fate  cause  to  regret  it  —  at  any  rate,  during  the 
summer  holidays. 


FOR  THE  RED  CROSS 

Of  course,  being  for  the  Red  Cross,  we  were  jolly 
well  paid  for  all  our  trouble  by  knowing  what  a 
tremendous  lift  we  had  given  the  Red  Cross  in 
general;  but  somehow  we  felt  that,  if  anything, 
too  much  was  made  of  the  wonderful  result,  and 
too  little  of  us,  who  had  done  it. 

Because,  you  see,  if  a  chap  in  the  trenches  covers 
himself  with  glory,  as  they  so  often  do,  it  is  noted 
down  to  the  chap's  credit,  and  he  gets  a  D.C.M.,  or 
D.S.O.,  or  a  V.C. ;  but  in  our  case,  as  Tracey  rather 
neatly  put  it,  we  weren't  so  much  as  mentioned  in 
dispatches,  and  the  bitter  irony  was  that  Merivale 
fairly  rung  with  the  fame  of  Dr.  Dunston,  whereas 
the  truth  was  that  we  did  everything,  and  Dunston, 
far  from  urging  us  on,  really  threw  cold  water  on 
the  whole  show,  and,  up  to  the  last  moment,  feared 
we  were  in  for  a  grisly  failure,  instead  of  a  most 
extraordinary  success. 

There  was  a  good  deal  of  difference  of  opinion 
afterwards  as  to  w^ho  sprang  the  idea,  and,  on  the 
whole,  I  don't  think  any  one  chap  could  take  the 

249 


S50     THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

credit.  It  was  too  big  a  thing  for  one  chap's  mind, 
and  you  might  say  nearly  everybody  in  the  Fifth 
and  Sixth  had  a  hand  in  it.  It  grew  and  grew  till 
it  reached  the  stage  of  asking  Dr.  Dunston;  and 
after  he  had  conferred  with  Brown  and  Fortescue 
and  old  Peacock,  he  reluctantly  agreed;  and  then 
it  grew  by  leaps  and  bounds  till  it  became  the  won- 
derful thing  it  was. 

The  idea  was  to  give  an  entertainment  for  the 
funds  of  the  Ked  Cross,  and  Blades  believed  it 
would  be  a  better  and  finer  entertainment  if  we  did 
it  absolutely  on  our  own,  without  any  help  from 
the  masters  whatever.  A  few  faint-hearted  chaps 
thought  not;  but  they  were  overruled,  for,  as 
Briggs  pointed  out,  there  was  no  entertaining 
power  whatever  in  the  masters.  The  only  one  who 
would  have  been  any  good  iu  that  way  was  Hutch- 
ings,  who  sang  remarkably  well  in  a  bass  voice  of 
great  depth;  but  he  was  at  the  War,  and  none  of 
the  others  had  any  gift  that  could  lure  a  paying 
audience.  No  doubt  they  might  have  tried,  but, 
as  Tracey  said,  you  couldn't  ask  people  to  pay  good 
money  just  for  the  doubtful  pleasure  of  seeing  them 
trying.  So  it  was  settled  that  as  there  was  a  great 
deal  of  mixed  power  of  amusing  an  audience  in  the 
school,  we  could  do  it  without  any  assistance;  and 


FOR  THE  RED  CROSS  251 

Fortescue  supported  this,  and  advised  the  Doctor 
that  we  should  be  given  a  free  hand ;  but  Peacock, 
of  all  people,  doubted,  and  Brown,  who  wanted  to 
shine  himself  in  some  way,  thought  we  ought  to 
have  him  and  Fortescue  to  give  a  backbone  to  the 
show.  What  he  was  prepared  to  do,  by  way  of 
backbone,  we  didn't  ask ;  what  he  did  do,  when  the 
time  came,  was  to  show  the  people  to  their  seats, 
and  his  evening-dress,  which  we  had  not  seen  be- 
fore, was  worth  all  the  money,  if  not  more. 

Anyway,  Fortescue  got  the  Doctor  to  let  us  do 
everything  without  help,  and  the  end  justified  the 
means,  as  Saunders  very  truly  said,  though  at  one 
time  it  rather  looked  as  if  it  might  not. 

It  was  announced  in  public  that  the  scholars  of 
Merivale  were  going  to  give  an  entertainment  for 
the  Red  Cross  before  Christmas  breaking  up,  and, 
when  all  was  decided,  we  had  two  clear  mouths  for 
the  preparations.  Owing  to  the  War  and  one  thing 
and  another,  we  didn't  have  much  football  that 
term,  and  the  show  got  to  be  the  great  idea  in 
everybody's  mind  —  so  much  so,  in  fact,  that  owing 
to  an  utter  breakdown  in  geography  in  the  Lower 
Fourth,  there  was  a  threat  from  headquarters  that 
the  whole  thing  would  be  knocked  on  the  head  if 
the  work  was  going  to  suffer. 


252  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

So  we  gave  the  Lower  Fourth  some  advice  on 
the  subject,  and  told  them  not  one  of  them  should 
do  anything  if  they  didn't  buck  up. 

Of  course,  the  great  problem  was,  who  should  be 
in  the  show  and  who  should  not.  That  was  a  ques- 
tion for  the  Sixth,  and  it  proved  a  very  difficult 
problem,  because  there  were  immense  stores  of 
talent  at  Merivale,  and  some  of  the  chaps  best  fitted 
to  entertain  a  paying  audience  by  their  great  gifts 
absolutely  refused  to  appear;  whereas,  strangely 
enough,  others,  quite  useless  in  every  way,  were 
death  on  appearing.  We  even  had  one  or  two  let- 
ters from  mothers,  written  to  "  The  Committee  of 
the  Merivale  Concert,"  fairly  grovelling  to  us  to 
let  their  sons  do  something.  Of  course,  we  ignored 
these,  though  Pegram,  with  his  usual  strategy,  ad- 
vised us  to  give  young  Tudor  a  show  of  some  sort, 
because  his  mother  and  father  were  worth  many 
thousands,  and  would  doubtless  buy  dozens  of  front 
seats  if  Tudor  did  anything  publicly. 

So  in  one  item  of  the  performance,  which  was 
a  scene  from  "The  Merchant  of  Venice,"  we  let 
Tudor  and  certain  other  kids  come  on  in  the  crowd. 
We  also  let  Cornwallis  and  Towler  sing  a  duet  — 
not  so  much  because  it  was  a  thing  to  pay  to  hear, 
but  because  of  their  great  adventure  on  Foster  Day, 


FOR  THE  RED  CROSS  253 

when  by  a  fluke  they  weren't  drowned,  and  so 
possessed  a  passing  interest  in  Merivale. 

The  programme  needed  a  fearful  lot  of  thought, 
and  we  altered  it  many  times.  The  first  pro- 
gramme would  have  taken  about  three  days  to  get 
through,  and  Tracey  said,  as  it  wasn't  a  Wagner 
Cycle,  we'd  better  try  and  cram  the  show  into  three 
hours;  and  Briggs  said  there  would  be  encores, 
which  must  be  allowed  for ;  and  I  remembered  that 
there  must  be  an  interval,  because  on  these  occa- 
sions women  want  something  to  drink  about  half- 
way through,  and  men  want  both  to  drink  and 
smoke  also.  And  if  they  are  prevented  from  doing 
these  things,  they  often  turn  against  the  perform- 
ance, and  the  last  state  of  that  show  is  worse  than 
the  first. 

I  am  Thwaites,  by  the  way,  and,  like  Percy 
minor,  I  hope  that  I  may  go  on  the  stage  some  day, 
being  much  inclined  to  do  so.  But  his  father  is  a 
professional  actor,  and  so  he  has  a  better  chance 
than  me,  mine  being  a  Government  official  in  Lon- 
don, who  never  goes  to  the  theatre,  always  being  too 
tired  to  do  anything  after  his  day's  work.  I  re- 
cite when  I  get  the  chance,  and  have  already  acted 
several  times;  I  also  write  poems.  I  did  not  push 
myself  forward  in  the  least,  it  was  agreed,  by  a  sort 


254     THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

of  general  understanding,  except  in  the  mind  of 
Percy  minor,  that  I  should  play  Shylock  in  the 
trial  scene  from  "  The  Merchant  of  Venice."  And 
Williams,  who  is  pretty,  and  had  many  a  time  been 
rotted  for  his  girl-like  eyes  and  eyelashes,  now 
found  that  his  hour  had  come,  for  he  was  going 
to  play  Portia;  and  we  hoped  his  beautiful  ap- 
pearance might  carry  him  through,  though  at  re- 
hearsal it  was  only  too  apparent  his  acting  would 
not.  "^ 

The  first  part  of  the  show  was  to  end  with  the 
Shakespearean  impersonation ;  but  this  was  not  all, 
though,  of  course,  the  cream  of  the  night.  We  had 
in  the  second  half  an  original  satire  in  one  act 
written  by  Tracey,  and  entitled  "The  White 
Feather."  This  would  be  the  concluding  item,  and 
as  we  finally  decided  that  we  would  have  twelve 
separate  items,  that  left  ten  to  find. 

There  were  some  obvious  things,  like  Percy  mini- 
mus, who  had  a  ripping  voice,  and  was  accustomed 
to  singing  both  in  and  out  of  chapel.  So,  knowing 
he  was  considered  class,  we  put  him  down  for  a 
song;  and  the  school  glee  singers  were  also  rather 
well  thought  of,  and  we  gave  them  two  items.  This 
only  left  seven  performances,  and  after  we  had  sub- 
tracted most  of  the  chaps  who  were  going  to  per- 


FOR  THE  RED  CROSS  255 

form  in  the  plays,  there  was  still  an  immense 
amount  of  mixed  ability  to  choose  from. 

Of  course,  Rice  had  to  be  in  it,  though,  in  his 
usual  sporting  way,  he  said  he  could  do  nothing. 
But  as  he  was  the  best  boxer  in  the  school,  and 
almost  as  good  as  a  professional  "  fly  "  weight,  we 
felt  no  show  would  be  complete  without  him,  and 
it  was  arranged  he  should  box  three  exhibition 
rounds  with  Bassett. 

As  Briggs  said,  with  people  who  pay  money,  you 
must  give  everybody  something  they  will  like ;  and 
though  the  people  who  would  come  to  see  Shake- 
speare acted  might  not  be  at  all  the  same  people 
who  would  come  to  see  Rice  hammer  Bassett,  yet 
there  it  was  —  we  didn't  want  to  disappoint  any- 
body, because  the  great  thing  with  a  successful  en- 
tertainment is  to  make  everybody  thoroughly  feel 
that  they  have  had  their  money's  worth,  as  Mitchell 
pointed  out.  He  was  going  to  take  the  money,  and 
sit  in  the  box  and  give  out  the  tickets.  He  could 
have  done  other  things,  but  chose  that  himself,  hav- 
ing great  natural  ability  in  everything  of  a  finan- 
cial sort.  And  as  all  the  tickets  were  numbered, 
we  felt  it  was  safe.  Besides,  for  the  Red  Cross, 
nobody  would  let  his  financial  ability  lead  him 
astray,  so  to  speak. 


256  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

Percy  minor,  the  son  of  the  famous  professional 
actor,  also  wished  to  play  Shylock,  but  was  put 
down  for  a  comic  song  —  an  art  in  which  he  ex- 
celled. And  Tracey  wanted  to  write  it  for  him 
and  make  it  topical;  but  we  knew  Tracey's  satire, 
and  felt  it  would  not  do.  Besides,  he'd  already 
written  a  whole  play,  as  it  was,  and  was  perform- 
ing the  chief  part  in  it,  so  we  let  Percy  minor 
choose  his  own  song,  and  he  chose  one  of  Albert 
Chevalier's,  which  blended  pathos  and  humour  in 
a  very  wonderful  way,  but  was  diflflcult.  This  left 
five  items,  and  it  seemed  almost  a  shame  to  leave 
out  so  much  talent;  but  we  finally  decided  on  Ab- 
bott for  a  conjuring  entertainment  —  him  being  a 
flyer  at  that  art  —  and  on  Nicholas,  who  has  the 
great  gift  of  lightning  calculation,  though,  strange 
to  say,  a  fool  in  everything  else.  He  stands  with  his 
back  to  a  blackboard,  and  can  divide  or  add  in  his 
head ;  and  if  you  read  him  out  ten  figures,  and  then 
ten  more  to  subtract  from  them,  he  can  do  it  in  a 
moment.  And  no  doubt  he  will  make  his  living 
in  this  way,  though  it  is  a  science  that  is  utterly 
useless  in  the  world  at  large. 

Allowing  for  Cornwallis  and  Towler,  there  were 
only  two  items  left,  and  I  had  the  good  luck  to  re- 
member there  was,  so  far,  nothing  about  the  Red 


FOR  THE  RED  CROSS  257 

Cross  in  the  whole  show ;  so  we  asked  Fortescue  if 
he  would  allow  a  recitation  of  his  famous  poem 
on  that  subject,  and  he  consented  if  he  was  allowed 
to  coach  the  boy  who  did  it.  We  gladly  agreed  to 
this,  and  Forrester  was  decided  upon  for  the  boy, 
though  he  would  rather  have  given  his  well  known 
and  remarkable  imitations  of  natural  sounds,  such 
as  a  cock  crowing,  or  a  bottle  of  ginger  beer  pop- 
ping, or  a  man  with  a  cold  in  his  head,  or  a  distant 
military  band.  It  was  decided,  therefore,  that  if 
Forrester  got  an  encore,  he  might  give  the  imita- 
tions; but  he  didn't,  so  they  were  unfortunately 
lost,  though  many  a  paying  audience  would  have 
liked  them  better  than  the  recitation,  splendid  as 
it  was. 

For  the  last  item  of  all  it  was  almost  impos- 
sible to  choose  between  about  ten  chaps,  and  at 
last,  after  voting  in  secret  several  times,  the  Sixth 
got  it  down  to  young  Hastings,  who  could  play  the 
fiddle  in  a  manner  seldom  heard  from  a  kid  of  nine 
years  old,  and  Weston,  who  was  prepared  to  black 
his  face  and  play  his  banjo.  Finally  we  decided 
for  Weston,  because  he  was  the  eldest,  and  would 
be  leaving  next  term  but  one,  whereas  Hastings, 
being  only  nine,  was  bound  to  have  many  future 
chances  of  appearing  with  his  fiddle. 


^58  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

So  that  was  the  programme,  and  even  when 
drawn  out  and  written  down,  it  was  pretty  stag- 
gering, but  when  actually  printed  in  regular  pro- 
gramme form,  it  was  wonderful,  and  for  my  part 
I  didn't  see  how  the  big  schoolroom  would  hold 
half  the  people  who  were  bound  to  come.  In  fact, 
I  suggested  giving  two,  or  even  three,  perform- 
ances on  consecutive  nights,  but  this  was  not  ap- 
proved of. 

Being,  as  you  may  say,  historical,  I  will  here  in- 
sert the  programme.  The  price  was  threepence, 
or  what  you  liked  to  give  above  that  sum.  Many 
gave  more;  some  got  copies  for  nothing,  owing  to 
the  programme  kids  losing  their  heads  about 
change.  It  appeared  in  this  way  on  pink  paper, 
faintly  scented,  and  nothing  was  charged  for  the 
scenting  by  the  printers,  so  I  suppose  the  scent 
was  their  contribution  to  the  Red  Cross  Fund. 

FOR  THE  RED  CROSS 

On  the  seventeenth  day  of  December  next,  by  kind  permission 
of  Dr.  Dunston,  the  scholars  of  Merivale  will  give  the  foUovr- 
ing  entertainment  in  the  Great  Hall  of  Merivale  School  at 
7.30  p.m.  Doors  open  at  seven  o'clock.  But  reserved  seats 
may  be  booked,  and  a  plan  of  the  room  seen  at  Messrs.  Tom- 
son's,  No.  4,  High  Street,  Merivale. 

The  Programme 

1.  Song  by  Percy  Minimus   (son  of  the  world-famous  actor, 
Thomas  Percy). 


FOR  THE  RED  CROSS  259 

2.  Conjuring  by  Abbott  (using  live  rabbits,  live  goldfish,  etc.). 

3.  Three  Rounds  of  Exhibition  Boxing  by  Rice   (Fly-weight 

Champion)   and  Bassett.     N.B. —  The  rounds  vpill  be  of 
two  minutes'  duration. 

4.  Glee  Singing  by  the  School  Glee  Singers. 

5.  Recitation,    *'  The   Cross    of    Red."     Words    (published    in 

"The  Times"  newspaper)  by  Mr.  Fortescue  of  Merivale 
School.     Reciter,  Forrester. 

6.  The  Trial  Scene  from  "  The  Merchant  of  Venice,"  by  Wil- 

liam Shakespeare,     Dramatis  Personse  as  follows : 

Shylock.  Thwaites. 

The  Duke.  Pegram. 

Antonio.  Saunders. 

Bassanio.  Preston. 

Gratiano.  Percy  Minor. 

Salerio.  Travers  Minor. 

Nerissa.  Percy  Minimus. 

Portia.  Williams. 

Magnificoes. 
Tudor,  Forbes  Minimus,  Hastings,  and 

five  others. 
Scene:     Venice.     A  Court  of  Justice. 

N.B. —  The  scene  will  conclude  with  the  exit  of  Shylock. 
An  Interval  of  Ten  Minutes. 

Pabt  II 

7.  Glee  Singing  by  the  School  Glee  Singers. 

("The  Three  Chafers,"  by  request.) 

8.  Comic  Song.     Percy  Minor  (son  of  the  great  actor,  Thomas 

Percy ) . 

9.  Lightning  calculation.     Nicholas   (introduced  by  Thwaites. 

Must  be  seen  to  be  believed). 

10.  Coon  Interlude  with  Banjo.     Weston. 

11.  Duet.     Towler  and  Cornwallis   (both  nearly  drowned  last 

summer  on  Foster  Day). 

12.  A    Satire   in    One    Act   by    Tracey,   entitled   "The    White 

Feather." 


260     THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

Dramatis  Personae. 
Captain  Harold  Vansittart  Maltravers,  v.c.  Tracey. 

General  Sir  Henry  Champernowne,  k.c.b.  Blades. 

A  Policeman.  Briggs. 

Miss  Sophia  Flapperkin.  Williams. 

Scene:     Trafalgar  Square.     Time:     The  Present. 

QOD  SAVE  THE  KING. 
Booking  Office:  Mitchell. 

Well,  that  was  the  programme,  and,  seeing  the 
front  seats  were  only  half  a  crown,  there  didn't 
seem  much  chance  of  anybody  not  getting  their 
money's  worth. 

I  could  say  a  great  deal  about  the  rehearsals, 
which  were  very  difficult,  owing  to  the  question  of 
scenery;  and  finally,  after  many  suggestions,  we 
decided  merely  to  have  wings,  and  leave  the  rest 
to  the  imagination,  because  we  couldn't  get  within 
miles  of  a  court  in  Venice,  and  Trafalgar  Square 
was  equally  out  of  the  question.  And  Percy  minor 
said  that  really  classy  stage  managers,  like  Gran- 
ville Barker,  relied  less  and  less  on  scenery,  and 
that  the  very  highest  art  was  to  go  back  to  Eliza- 
bethan times,  and  just  stick  up  what  the  scene  was 
on  a  curtain;  and  if  people  didn't  like  it,  they 
could  do  the  other  thing.  So  we  went  back  to 
Elizabethan  times.  But  we  had  a  professional 
man  from  Plymouth  to  make  us  up  for  Shake- 
speare, and  he  did  it  professionally,  and  we  were 


FOR  THE  RED  CROSS  261 

rather  dazzled  ourselves  at  what  we  looked  like 
on  the  night.  Seen  close,  you're  awful,  but,  of 
course,  it's  all  right  from  the  front. 

The  dresses  for  Shakespeare  were  also  profes- 
sional, and  we  had  help,  for  without  the  matron 
and  Nelly  Dunston  and  Minnie  Dunston,  and  a 
maid  or  two,  the  dresses  would  not  have  fitted,  and 
so  caused  derision.  But  they  did  well,  and  we 
looked  very  realistic,  though  my  Jewish  gaberdine 
was  too  long  to  the  last.  However,  nobody  no- 
ticed, though  naturally  they  did  notice  when  An- 
tonio's beard  carried  away,  and  it  spoilt  the 
pathos,  because  some  fools  laughed,  instead  of  tak- 
ing no  notice,  as  any  decent  chaps  would  have. 

Well,  of  course,  the  excitement  was  to  see  how 
the  half-crown  seats  went  off  at  Tomson's,  and 
they  weren't  gone  in  a  moment,  by  any  means. 
You  could  book  both  half-crowners  and  eighteen- 
pennies,  which  came  next,  and  people  put  off  their 
booking  a  good  deal.  But  when  the  programme 
was  out,  the  booking  improved,  and  five  people 
booked  in  one  day.  It  was  rather  interesting  to 
hear  who  had  booked,  and  Mitchell  was  allowed  to 
go  to  the  shop  every  morning  after  school  to  know 
how  things  were  going.  Sir  Neville  Carew,  from 
the  Manor  House,  took  five  half-crown  seats  in  the 


262  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

front  row,  and  Dr.  Diinston  himself  took  the  next 
five.  This  news,  we  greeted  with  mingled  feelings, 
yet,  as  Mitchell  pointed  out,  he  might  have  had 
them  for  nothing,  which  was  true.  The  masters 
all  took  half-crown  seats  dotted  about  the  big  hall, 
and  when  Briggs  asked  Brown  why  they  had  done 
this,  instead  of  sitting  together.  Brown  said: 
"  To  applaud  your  efforts,  Briggs,  and  suggest  a 
consensus  of  opinion  if  we  can."  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  we  didn't  want  their  wretched  applause  when 
the  time  came,  for  we  got  plenty  without  it. 

The  most  sensational  person  to  take  a  half- 
crown  seat  was  old  Black,  from  next  door.  He 
had  always  been  our  greatest  enemy,  and  hated  us, 
and  he  never  gave  anything  back  that  went  over 
his  wall,  and  made  us  pay  instantly  if  we  did  any 
damage,  or  broke  a  pane  of  glass,  or  anything; 
yet  there  he  was.  He  sat  in  the  second  row,  and 
not  a  muscle  moved  from  first  to  last,  and  he  never 
clapped  once.  Yet,  extraordinary  to  say,  the  most 
remarkable  thing  about  the  whole  performance  had 
to  do  with  old  Black,  though  the  amazing  affair 
didn't  come  out  till  next  morning. 

Mitchell  calculated  that,  if  every  seat  was  taken, 
we  should  clear  thirty-four  pounds  odd,  and  he 
rather  hoped  the  programmes  would  bring  it  up 


FOR  THE  RED  CROSS  263 

to  thirty-six.  From  that,  however,  had  to  be  sub- 
tracted the  cost  of  the  dresses  and  the  professional 
man  from  Plymouth,  and  also  the  cost  of  the  pro- 
grammes and  the  piano  man.  It  looked  as  if  we 
should  be  good  for  a  clear  thirty  pounds;  but  only 
if  the  house  was  full. 

Happy  to  relate,  it  was,  and  many  people  who 
did  not  book  at  all,  came  and  took  their  tickets  at 
the  door,  and  the  one  bob  part  was  packed.  In 
fact,  a  good  many  stood  all  through,  including 
those  interested  in  Merivale  in  humble  ways,  such 
as  the  tuck-woman  and  the  ground-man  and  the 
drill-sergeant,  and  many  other  such-like  people. 
When,  therefore,  after  the  interval  for  refresh- 
ments. Dr.  Dunston  got  up  and  said  we  had  taken 
thirty-seven  pounds  four  shillings,  there  was  great 
cheering,  and  most  did  not  hide  their  surprise. 

A  reporter  came  from  The  Merivale  Trumpet 
and  Mitchell  saw  that  he  had  plenty  of  refresh- 
ments for  nothing,  because  this  is  expected  by  re- 
porters, and  much  depends  on  it.  He  ate  and 
drank  well,  so  we  naturally  hoped  for  a  column  or 
two  about  the  show;  but  the  cur  wrote  a  most 
feeble  account  in  three  inches  of  type,  and  gave  all 
the  praise  to  Dr.  Dunston,  so  I  need  not  repeat 
what  he  said. 


264     THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

The  truth  was  as  follows,  and  I  shall  take  the 
programme  by  its  items,  and  be  perfectly  fair 
about  it.  I  won't  pretend  everything  went  off  as 
well  as  we  hoped,  and  some  of  the  chaps  didn't 
come  off  at  all ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  many  did, 
and  the  failures  also  got  a  friendly  greeting.  And 
even  if  you  make  a  person  laugh  quite  differently 
from  what  you  expected,  it's  better  than  if  he 
doesn't  laugh  at  all.  Besides,  we  had  to  remember 
that  everybody  had  paid  solid  cash,  so  it  wasn't 
like  a  free  show,  where  people  have  got  to  be 
pleased,  or  pretend  to  be.  Because,  when  you 
have  paid  your  money,  you  are  free  to  display  your 
feelings;  and  if  people  in  a  paying  audience  are 
such  utter  bounders  as  to  laugh  in  the  wrong 
places,  there's  no  law  against  it,  and  the  per- 
formers must  jolly  well  stick  it  as  best  they  can. 

Well,  of  course,  Percy  minimus  was  a  certainty, 
and  the  start  was  excellent.  In  fact,  some  people 
wanted  to  encore  him ;  but  this  did  not  happen  — 
though  he  would  have  sung  again  —  because  the 
live  rabbit  which  Abbott  had  borrowed  from  Bel- 
lamy for  his  illusions  broke  loose  and  dashed  on 
to  the  platform.  So  when  the  audience  expected 
Percy  back,  instead  there  appeared  a  large,  lop- 
eared  white  rabbit  with  a  brown  behind.     It  looked, 


FOR  THE  RED  CROSS  ^5 

of  course,  as  if  Abbott  had  already  begun  to  con- 
jure, and,  in  fact,  liad  turned  Percy  into  a  lop- 
eared  rabbit.  Anyway,  the  people  were  so  much 
interested  that  they  stopped  encoring  Percy,  and 
seemed  inclined  to  encore  the  bewildered  rabbit. 
Then  Abbott  appeared  and  caught  the  rabbit, 
which  had  rather  ruined  his  show  by  appearing  in 
this  way;  and  Vernon  and  Montgomery,  who  were 
his  assistants,  brought  on  the  magic  table,  with 
various  objects  arranged  upon  it  for  the  tricks. 
Unfortunately,  Abbott  was  very  nervous,  which  is 
a  most  dangerous  thing  for  a  conjuror  to  be,  and 
tricks  which  he  would  have  done  to  perfection  dur- 
ing school  hours,  or  in  the  home  circle,  so  to  say, 
got  fairly  mucked  up  before  the  paying  audience. 
He  put  on  an  appearance  of  great  ease,  but  he 
couldn't  manage  his  voice,  and  he  forgot  his  "  pat- 
ter," and  he  also  forgot  how  to  palm,  and  kept 
dropping  secret  things  at  awkward  moments,  and 
making  footling  jokes  to  hide  his  confusion.  The 
people  were  frightfully  kind  and  patient,  and  that 
made  him  worse.  I  believe,  if  they  had  hissed,  it 
might  have  bucked  him  up. 

He  forced  a  card,  as  he  thought,  on  old  Black, 
and  after  messing  about  with  a  pistol  and  an 
orange  and  a  silk  handkerchief  and  some  unseen 


266  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

contrivances,  he  made  the  ace  of  spades  appear 
in  a  bouquet  of  imitation  flowers,  and  then  chal- 
lenged old  Black  to  show  his  card,  which  he  did 
do,  and  it  unfortunately  turned  out  to  be  the  four 
of  hearts.  This  fairly  broke  Abbott,  and  when  it 
came  to  bringing  the  lop-eared  rabbit  out  of  a 
borrowed  hat,  every  soul  in  that  paying  audience 
saw  him  put  it  in  first.  It  is  true  he  tried  to  con- 
ceal it  in  a  mass  of  other  things  under  a  huge 
flag,  supposed  to  be  the  Union  Jack;  but  the  rab- 
bit, who  had  never  been  conjured  with  before,  and 
hated  it,  kicked  violently  and  defied  concealment, 
so  to  say.  However,  Abbott  got  a  lot  of  trick 
flowers  and  vegetables  and  about  half  a  mile  of 
yellow  ribbon  into  the  hat  at  the  same  time  as  the 
rabbit,  and  the  audience  had  not  seen  him  do  this, 
so  they  were  slightly  mystified,  and  applauded  in 
a  weary  sort  of  way.  He  finished  up  by  bringing 
a  bowl  of  goldfish  out  of  a  dice  with  white  spots 
on  it,  and,  though  there  was  no  great  deception,  it 
passed  off  safely  for  the  goldfish.  Then  Abbott 
bowed  and  cleared  out;  and,  thanks  to  Fortescue, 
who  is  fond  of  Abbott,  and  said  "Bravo!"  and 
tried  to  work  up  some  applause,  there  was  no  ab- 
solute blank  when  he  had  done.  But  Montgomery 
and  Vernon,  who  had  to  clear  up  the  debris  after- 


FOR  THE  RED  CROSS  267 

wards,  got  one  of  the  best  laughs  of  the  night,  be- 
cause they  became  fearfully  entangled  in  the  yel- 
low ribbon,  and  thoughtless  people  were  a  good 
deal  amused  to  see  it. 

Then  came  Rice  and  Bassett  in  shorts,  with  a 
new  pair  of  boxing  gloves.  A  chair  was  put  in 
each  corner  of  the  stage,  and  the  seconds  stood  by 
the  chairs.  It  was  all  pure  science,  but  only  a 
few  chaps  at  the  back  appreciated  them,  and 
when,  as  bad  luck  would  have  it.  Rice  tapped  Bas- 
sett's  ruby  in  the  first  round,  the  women  part  of 
the  audience  gurgled,  and  gave  little  yelps  and 
screams.  It  was  nothing,  but  evidently  appeared 
strange  and  dreadful  to  them;  so  the  Doctor 
stopped  the  exhibition,  and  that  item  can  be  put 
down  as  an  utter  failure.  Perhaps  it  was  a  silly 
thing  to  have  arranged  for  a  mixed  audience;  but 
we  had  to  think  of  Rice's  feelings,  and  we  also 
knew  that  scores  of  countesses  and  duchesses  go 
to  see  Carpentier  and  Wells,  and  such  like  in  real 
fights,  so  we  little  dreamed  anybody  would  squirm 
at  a  harmless  exhibition  bout  that  wouldn't  have 
shaken  a  flea.  But  it  was  so,  and  consequently 
the  glee  singers  were  a  great  relief,  and  while  they 
warbled  their  simple  lays,  the  female  part  of  the 
audience  recovered.     Of  course,  we  Thespians  did 


268  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

not  see  any  of  these  things,  as  we  were  all  making 
up  for  the  great  Trial  Scene. 

Forrester  got  fair  applause  for  Fortescue's  fine 
poem,  but  nothing  special.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
he  forgot  the  third  verse,  which  was  the  best,  and 
doubtless  Fortescue  felt  very  sick  about  it;  but 
he  was  powerless  to  do  anything,  though  he  never 
much  liked  Forrester  after. 

Then  came  the  grand  item,  and  it  was  good  in 
every  way,  and  went  very  smoothly  till  just  the 
end.  Of  course,  I  can't  say  anything  about  my 
rendition  of  Shylock  —  in  fact,  I  didn't  feel  I  had 
gripped  the  audience  in  the  least  —  but  chaps  told 
me  you  might  have  heard  a  pin  drop,  and  nobody 
recognized  me  who  knew  me,  and  many  of  the 
people  in  the  audience  thought  it  was  one  of  the 
masters,  and  not  a  boy  at  all.  Pegram  rather 
overacted  the  Duke,  which  is  a  part  that  merely 
wants  stateliness,  and  no  acting;  but  he  would 
act,  and  so  forgot  his  words  and  hung  us  up  once 
or  twice.  In  fact,  Pegram  was  not  good;  but  An- 
tonio, by  Saunders,  was  a  very  thoughtful  per^ 
formance,  and  so  was  Bassanio,  by  Preston. 
Percy  minor  certainly  came  off  as  Gratiano,  and 
unfortunately  he  acted  so  jolly  well  that,  in  one 
of  his  fearful  scores  off  me,  I  forgot  the  dignified 


FOR  THE  RED  CROSS  269 

pathos  of  Shylock,  and  laughed.  It  was  a  new 
reading,  in  a  way,  but  I  didn't  mean  to  laugh,  and 
it  did  a  lot  of  harm,  because  after  that  the  audi- 
ence wouldn't  take  me  seriously,  though  before,  I 
believe,  most  of  them  had.  It  spoiled  the  illusion 
of  the  scene.  Portia,  in  the  hands  of  Williams, 
was  most  beautiful  to  see,  but,  from  the  art  point 
of  view,  awful.  He  got  out  his  words,  however, 
and  just  at  the  end,  before  my  exit,  Minnie  Dun- 
ston,  who  had  plotted  it  with  him  in  secret,  threw 
him  a  bouquet  of  white  chrysanthemums,  and  the 
fool  picked  it  up  and  said  out  loud :  "  Thank  you, 
Minnie !  "  Of  course,  after  that,  my  exit  went  for 
nothing,  and  when  it  was  over,  I  punched  his  head 
behind  the  scenes,  while  in  front  people  were 
laughing  themselves  silly.  We  got  two  calls,  and 
it  shows  what  a  force  the  drama  really  is,  because 
in  the  second  half  of  the  programme  nobody  cared 
a  button  about  such  excellent  things  as  Percy 
minor's  comic  song;  and  though  Towler  and  Corn- 
wallis  were  mildly  applauded,  it  was  only  because 
they  happened  to  be  still  alive  and  not  dead;  and 
the  lightning  calculations  of  Nicholas  didn't  even 
tempt  many  men  to  come  away  from  the  refresh- 
ments. I  dare  say  many  of  them  were  very  poor, 
and  had  to  make  so  many  lightning  calculations 


270     THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

themselves,  owing  to  the  War,  that  they  weren't 
specially  interested  in  what  Nicholas  could  do. 
But  for  Tracey's  play  they  all  came,  and  such  ap- 
plause was  never  heard  within  the  walls  of  Meri- 
vale;  which  shows  that  the  drama  still  holds  its 
own.  The  idea  of  "  The  White  Feather  "  was  cer- 
tainly very  original,  and  the  dialogue  very  satirical. 
As  the  girl  with  the  white  feathers,  Williams  ap- 
peared again  —  in  a  dress  lent  him  by  Minnie 
Dunston.  This  was  too  small  in  some  places  and 
too  big  in  others ;  but  thanks  to  a  huge  female  hat 
and  a  wig  of  golden  hair,  Williams  made  a  very 
fair  flapper,  though  inches  too  tall  for  such  a  crea- 
ture. He  gave  a  feather  to  Captain  Maltravers, 
V.C.,  from  Gallipoli,  who  was  in  mufti;  and 
Tracey,  with  an  eyeglass  —  which  he  manages 
fairly  well  —  and  a  moustache,  was  frightfully 
satirical  at  the  flapper's  expense,  and  every  point 
he  made  went  with  a  roar.  Then  the  flapper  stuck 
a  white  feather  into  the  frock-coat  of  General  Sir 
Champernowne  —  also  in  mufti  —  and  he  was  not 
satirical,  but  got  into  a  frightful  rage,  and  gave 
up  the  flapper  to  a  policeman.  She  cried  and 
begged  for  pardon;  and  then  the  V.C.  returned, 
and  saved  her  from  the  General  and  the  police- 
man, and  promised  to  marry  her  after  the  War. 


FOR  THE  RED  CROSS  271 

The  house  was  fairly  convulsed,  aud  it  was 
really  jolly  true  to  nature  —  so  much  so  that  the 
pianist  almost  forgot  "  God  Save  the  King  "  when 
all  was  over.  For  though  a  professional,  and  well 
used  to  entertainments,  he  laughed  as  much  as 
anybody. 

Then  the  people  "  came  like  shadows  and  so  de- 
parted," in  the  words  of  the  immortal  Bard;  and 
not  until  next  day  did  the  final  stupendous  thing 
happen  with  old  Black.  He  looked  over  the  play- 
ground wall  just  before  dinner,  as  he  often  did, 
to  make  a  beast  of  himself  about  something,  and, 
seeing  me  and  Weston  and  another  chap  or  two 
kicking  about  a  football,  he  said  to  me :  "  Are 
you  the  boy  Thwaites?  "     And  I  said  I  was. 

Then  he  said :  "  Come  in,  Thwaites ;  I  want  to 
speak  to  you." 

My  first  thought  was  —  what  had  I  done?  But 
as  I  hadn't  had  any  row  with  old  Black  for  two 
terms,  my  "  withers  were  unwrung,"  and  I  went ; 
and  he  took  me  into  his  study,  and  handed  me  a 
bit  of  pink  paper  with  writing  on  it, 

"  What's  this,  sir?  "  I  asked. 

"  A  cheque  for  the  Red  Cross,"  he  answered. 
"  A  cheque  for  twenty  guineas,  to  add  to  the  money 
from  your  performance  last  night." 


272  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

He  was  scowling  all  the  time,  mind  you,  and 
looking  as  if  he  hated  the  show. 

"  I'm  sure  it's  very  sporting  of  you,  sir,"  I  said 
to  old  Black. 

"  Not  in  the  least,"  he  replied.  "  I  laughed  more 
last  night  than  I  have  laughed  for  fifty  years. 
And  I  only  paid  half  a  crown  —  much  too  little 
for  what  I  got." 

I  was  fearfully  amazed. 

"  Excuse  me,  sir,"  I  said,  "  but  I  didn't  see  you 
laugh  once ! " 

"  No,"  he  answered,  "  and  more  did  anyone  else. 
When  I  laugh,  I  laugh  inside,  boy,  not  outside. 
So  do  most  wise  men.  Now  be  off;  and  when  you 
next  play  Shylock,  let  me  know.  If  I'm  alive,  I'll 
come." 

So  I  went,  and  we  cheered  old  Black  from  the 
playground.  He  must  have  heard  us,  but  he 
didn't  show  up. 

Certainly,  taking  one  thing  with  another,  there 
are  many  extraordinary  people  in  the  world,  and 
you  may  be  surprised  at  any  moment.  No  doubt 
it  was  one  of  those  cases  of  coming  to  scoff  and 
remaining  to  pray  that  you  hear  about,  but  don't 
often  actually  see. 


THE  LAST  OF  MITCHELL 

There  is  a  great  deal  of  difference  between  being 
expelled  and  "  invited  to  find  another  sphere  for 
your  activities."  In  fact,  as  my  father  said,  if  Dr. 
Dunston  had  expelled  me,  he  would  certainly  have 
made  a  row  about  it,  and  very  likely  have  written 
to  the  newspapers. 

But  old  Dunston  was  a  jolly  sight  too  wily  for 
that.  He  wrote  to  my  father  when  the  event  hap- 
pened, and  said  that  circumstances  had  come  to 
his  ears  which  made  him  think,  etc.,  etc.,  that  I 
had  better  leave  Merivale. 

I  am  Mitchell,  and  my  father  is  a  financier,  and 
I  may  say  that  this  profesison  embraces  a  great 
many  branches. 

Sometimes,  after  dinner  in  holidays,  he  has  al- 
lowed me  to  stop  and  smoke  a  cigarette  while  he 
talked  to  friends,  and  so  I  have  got  a  gradual  ink- 
ling of  what  it  means  to  be  a  financier;  and,  in 
a  way,  this  inkling  was  my  downfall.  Not  that  I 
felt  it  a  downfall  really  to  be  hoofed  out  of  Meri- 
vale; for  it  was  rather  a  potty  sort  of  show,  and 

273 


274     THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

I  should  have  gone  to  a  far  more  swagger  place  if 
my  father  had  been  flusher  just  at  the  time  when 
I  had  to  go  somewhere,  owing  to  a  trifling  bother 
at  another  school. 

But  I  went  to  Merivale,  and  just  because  I  tried 
to  take  advantage  of  what  my  father  had  said 
about  finance  and  apply  it  to  school  life,  the  dif- 
ficulties arose. 

I  gathered  off  and  on  from  my  father,  when  he 
was  in  a  talkative  frame  of  mind,  that  one  of  the 
great  arts  of  a  financier  is  to  do  deals  between 
other  people. 

For  instance,  you  have  something  to  sell,  and  my 
father  knows  it.  And  he  routs  about  and  leaves 
no  stone  unturned,  as  they  say,  until  he  finds  some- 
body who  wants  to  buy  just  what  you  want  to  sell. 
Then,  having  found  you  a  customer,  my  father 
arranges  all  the  details  of  the  business,  and  every- 
body is  satisfied,  and  my  father,  for  all  his  time 
and  trouble,  gets  richly  rewarded. 

Then,  again,  another  fine  branch  of  the  finan- 
cier's art  is  the  floating  of  public  companies.  To 
float  a  company  requires  great  skill  and  nerve. 

The  flrst  thing  is  to  find  a  place  a  long  way  off, 
far  beyond  the  reach  of  intending  shareholders, 
in  fact.     Then  you  discover  this  far-off  country  is 


THE  LAST  OF  MITCHELL  275 

extraordinarily  rich  in  minerals,  or  india-rubber, 
or  manure,  or  some  other  useful  material  which 
everybody  wants.  You  send  out  a  mineral  or 
manure  expert  to  the  far-off  country,  and  he  is 
delighted  to  find  these  things  in  enormous  quanti- 
ties, and  sees  at  a  glance  that,  if  properly  man- 
aged, they  will  produce  dividends  of  very  likely 
a  hundred  per  cent,  for  the  first  year,  and  much 
more  afterwards. 

Then  my  father,  or  whoever  it  might  be,  is  glad, 
and  he  goes  about  to  other  skilful  men  who  un- 
derstand companies,  and  they  collect  together  and 
make  a  board.  The  more  famous  financiers  there 
are  upon  this  board  the  better  the  public  likes  it; 
and  so  the  company  is  floated,  and  the  public  is 
invited  to  put  in  money. 

This  the  public  is  only  too  thankful  to  do,  be- 
cause, of  course,  the  thing  promises  so  well;  and 
then  the  shares  are  quoted  on  the  Stock  Exchange, 
and  the  papers  are  suddenly  full  of  the  company 
some  morning,  and  the  board  sits  and  has  a  cham- 
pagne luncheon  and  arranges  its  salaries  and  so 
on. 

Of  course,  the  people  who  have  found  that 
happy,  far-away  land,  flowing  with  minerals  and 
manure  and  such  like,  are  richly  rewarded,  as  they 


276     THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR   ^ 

deserve  to  be ;  and  sometimes  they  take  it  in  money 
and  sometimes  in  shares,  and  sometimes  in  both. 

And  all  may  or  may  not  go  well ;  but  the  finan- 
cier, whose  business  it  is  to  do  these  things  and 
float  the  company,  takes  care  to  come  out  of  it  all 
right  in  any  case  —  otherwise  it  is  no  good  being 
a  financier. 

There  was  once  a  very  fine  company  floated  by 
my  father  and  several  of  his  scientific  friends,  for 
extracting  gold  from  salt  water. 

It  was  based  on  thoroughly  sound  principles; 
because  science  has  proved  that  there  is  so  much 
gold  in  every  ton  of  salt  water;  and,  of  course,  if 
it  is  there,  it  can  be  extracted  by  modern  inven- 
tions. So  my  father  and  others  of  even  greater 
renown  were  filled  with  the  idea  of  promoting  a 
company  to  do  this. 

It  was  a  brilliant  and  successful  company  in  a 
way,  but  did  not  last  long  for  some  reason. 

They  started  at  a  place  near  Margate,  I  think, 
with  pumps  and  tubes  to  draw  in  the  water,  and 
machinery  and  professional  chemists  to  get  the 
gold  out  of  it,  and  a  staff  of  twenty  skilled  men, 
who  understood  the  complicated  mechanism.  And 
they  easily  got  enough  gold  from  somewhere  to 
make  the  prospectus,  and  also  enough  to  make  a 


THE  LAST  OF  MITCHELL  277 

brooch  for  the  manager's  wife;  and  no  doubt  they 
would  have  got  much  more  in  course  of  time,  but 
something  failed  —  the  water  in  the  English  Chan- 
nel was  a  bit  off,  or  some  other  natural  cause  — 
and  my  father  said  it  would  have  been  far  better 
for  everybody  concerned  if  the  works  had  been 
put  up  in  the  Isle  of  Skye,  or  perhaps  in  Norway, 
or  in  the  West  Indies,  or  the  Fiji  Islands,  where 
conditions  might  have  been  better  suited  to  success. 

But  gold  was  none  the  less  made  for  my  father 
and  one  or  two  others,  "  though  not  from  the 
sea,"  as  my  father  said  thoughtfully  when  discuss- 
ing the  winding  up  of  the  affair. 

There  is  another  and  even  higher  branch  of  the 
financier's  art  —  the  loftiest  of  all  in  fact.  This 
consists  in  floating  loans  for  hard-up  monarchs, 
and  it  is  absolutely  the  biggest  thing  the  financier 
does.     It  wants  great  skill  and  delicacy. 

You  can  also  float  loans  for  hard-up  nations  if 
you  understand  how  to  do  it,  but  there  are  hun- 
dreds of  flnanciers  who  never  reach  these  dizzy 
heights  of  the  profession,  just  as  there  are  hun- 
dreds—  you  may  say  millions  —  of  soldiers  who 
never  get  above  being  colonels,  and  thousands  of 
clergymen  who  fall  short  of  becoming  bishops. 

My   father,   of    course,    understood   these   high 


£78  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

branches  of  his  profession,  and  once  even  went  so 
far  as  to  be  interested  in  a  loan  for  a  South  Amer- 
ican Republic;  but  before  the  thing  was  matured, 
one  side  of  the  Republic  was  destroyed  by  a  vol- 
cano and  the  other  side  by  insurgents,  who  shot 
the  President  and  all  his  best  friends;  and  these 
events  so  shook  investors  in  general  that  they 
would  not  subscribe  to  that  loan,  though  the  Re- 
public, in  its  financial  extremities,  offered  fabulous 
rates  of  interest. 

I  mention  my  father  at  such  great  length  just 
to  show  the  man  he  was  and  to  explain  my  own 
bent  of  mind,  which  lay  in  the  same  direction.  He 
said  once,  in  a  genial  mood,  that  no  man  had  ever 
made  more  bricks  without  straw  than  he  had.  It 
seemed  to  me  a  very  dignified  and  original  profes- 
sion, because  you  are  on  your  own,  so  to  say,  and 
you  go  out  into  the  world  single-handed,  and  by 
simple  force  of  a  brilliant  imagination  and  hard 
work,  win  to  yourself  an  honourable  position. 
You  may  even  get  knighted  or  baroneted,  if  your 
financial  genius  is  crowned  with  sufficient  success 
to  give  away  a  few  tons  of  money  to  a  hospital,  or 
the  "  party  chest,"  whatever  that  is. 

So,  understanding  all  these  things  fairly  well, 
it  was  natural  that  I  took  the  line  I  did  in  the 


THE  LAST  OF  MITCHELL  279 

affair  of  Protheroe  minimus  and  young  Mayne. 
And,  whatever  tlie  Doctor  thought,  my  father 
didn't  see  any  objection  to  the  operation;  and,  of 
course,  his  opinion  was  the  only  one  I  cared  about. 

It  was  like  this. 

Young  Mayne,  though  very  poor,  had  a  most 
amazing  knack  of  prize-winning.  He  was  in  a 
class  where  all  the  chaps  were  a  year  older  than 
him,  and  yet  he  always  beat  them  with  the  greatest 
ease.  He  was  good  all  round,  and  thought  noth- 
ing of  raking  in  prizes  term  after  term. 

In  fact,  it  seemed  a  thousand  pities,  seeing  that 
he  was  very  poor  and  the  only  son  of  a  lawyer's 
clerk,  that  his  great  prize-winning  powers  were 
not  yielding  a  better  return.  For,  not  to  put  too 
fine  a  point  upon  it,  as  they  say,  the  prizes  at  Meri- 
vale  were  piffle  of  the  deepest  dye,  and  of  no  money 
value  worth  mentioning.  Dr.  Dunston  went  on 
getting  the  same  books  term  after  term,  and  simply 
unreadable  slush  was  all  you  could  call  them. 

The  few  things  that  were  good  were  all  back 
numbers,  like  "  Robinson  Crusoe  " —  all  right  in 
themselves,  but  nobody  wants  to  read  them  twice; 
and  then  there  were  school  stories  that  would 
have  made  angels  weep,  especially  one  called  "  St. 
Winifred's,"    in    which    boys    behaved    like    girls 


280     THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

and  blushed  if  anybody  said  something  dashing. 
Then  there  were  books  about  birds  and  animals 
and  insects,  and  for  the  Lower  School  the  Doctor 
used  to  sink  to  "  Peter  Parley  "  and  the  "  Peep  of 
Day,"  and  such-like  absolute  mess  of  a  bygone  age. 

These  things  were  all  bound  in  blue  leather  and 
had  a  gold  owl  stamped  upon  them,  which  was  the 
badge  of  Merivale. 

I  believe  the  owl  was  supposed  to  be  the  bird  of 
Athena,  and  stood  for  wisdom,  or  some  such  rot. 
Anyhow,  it  wasn't  a  bad  idea  in  its  way,  for  a 
more  owlish  sort  of  school  than  Merivale  I  never 
was  at. 

And  young  Mayne  got  more  of  these  books  than 
anybody;  but  to  him  they  were  as  grass,  and  he 
thought  nothing  of  them.  Whereas  Protheroe 
minimus  had  never  won  a  prize  in  his  life,  and 
wanted  one  fearfully  —  not  for  itself,  but  for  the 
valuable  effect  it  would  have  on  his  mother. 

She  was  a  widow  and  loved  Protheroe  minimus 
best  of  her  three  sons.  The  others  had  taken 
prizes  and  were  fair  fliers  at  school ;  but  Protheroe 
min.  was  useless  except  at  running.  So,  woman- 
like, just  because  he  couldn't  get  a  prize  anyhow, 
his  mother  was  set  on  his  doing  so,  and  promised 
him  rare  rewards  if  he  would  only  work  extra 


THE  LAST  OF  MITCHELL  281 

hard,  or  be  extra  good,  or  extra  something,  and  so 
scare  up  a  blue  book  with  a  gold  owl  at  any  cost. 

Well,  if  you  have  a  financial  mind,  you  will  see 
at  a  glance  that  here  was  a  possible  opportunity. 
At  least,  so  it  looked  to  me.  Because  on  the  one 
hand  was  young  Mayne,  always  fearfully  hard  up 
and  always  getting  prizes  at  the  end  of  each  term 
as  a  matter  of  course ;  while  on  the  other  hand  was 
Protheroe  min.,  never  hard  up  but  never  a  scho- 
lastic success,  so  to  say,  from  the  beginning  of  the 
term  to  the  end  —  and,  of  course,  never  even 
within  sight  of  a  prize  of  any  sort. 

Here  it  seemed  to  me  was  the  whole  problem 
of  supply  and  demand  in  a  nutshell ;  and  the  finan- 
cier instinct  cried  out  in  me,  as  it  were,  that  I 
ought  to  be  up  and  doing. 

So  I  went  to  young  Mayne  and  said  that  I 
thought  it  was  a  frightful  pity  all  his  great  skill 
was  being  chucked  away,  and  bringing  no  return 
more  important  than  the  mournful  things  that  he 
won  as  prizes.     And  he  said : 

"A  time  will  come,  Mitchell." 

And  then  I  told  him  that  a  time  had  come. 

"  I  know  you  sell  your  prizes  for  a  few  bob  at 
home,  and  that  you  think  nothing  of  them,"  I  said. 
"  But  I  had  a  bit  of  a  yarn  with  that  kid  Pro- 


282     THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

theroe  yesterday,  and  it  seems  that  what  is  noth- 
ing to  you  would  be  a  perfect  godsend  to  him. 
You  may  not  believe  it,  but  his  mother,  who  is  a 
bit  dotty  on  him,  has  promised  him  five  pounds  if  he 
will  bring  home  a  prize." 

"  Five  pounds !  "  said  Mayne.  "  The  best  prize 
old  Dun  ever  gave  wasn't  worth  five  bob." 

"  She  doesn't  want  to  sell  it  —  she  wants  to  keep 
it  for  the  honour  and  glory  of  Protheroe  min.,"  I 
explained.  "And  the  idea  in  my  mind  in  bring- 
ing you  chaps  together  for  your  mutual  advantage 
was,  firstly,  that  you  should  let  Protheroe  have  one 
of  your  prizes  to  take  home  in  triumph  to  his 
mother;  and,  secondly,  that  he  should  give  you  a 
document  swearing  to  let  you  have  two  pounds  of 
his  five  pounds  at  the  beginning  of  next  term." 

Mayne  was  much  interested  at  this  suggestion, 
and,  knowing  that  he  must  be  a  snip  for  at  least 
two  prizes,  if  not  three,  at  the  end  of  the  sum- 
mer term,  he  had  no  difficulty  whatever  in  falling 
in  with  my  scheme. 

We  were  allowed  to  walk  in  the  playing-fields 
on  Sunday  after  chapel  before  dinner,  and  then 
Mayne  and  Protheroe  minimus  and  myself  dis- 
cussed the  details. 

Funnily  enough,  they  were  so  full  of  it  between 


THE  LAST  OF  MITCHELL  ^8S 

themselves  that  they  did  not  exactly  realize  where 
I  came  in;  so  I  had  to  remind  Protheroe  that  it 
was  I  who  had  arranged  the  supply  when  I  heard 
about  his  demand;  and  I  had  also  to  remind  him 
he  had  certainly  said  that  if  anybody  could  put 
him  in  the  way  of  a  prize,  he  would  give  that  per- 
son a  clear  pound  at  the  beginning  of  next 
term. 

I  also  had  to  remind  Mayne  that  he  had  prom- 
ised me  ten  shillings  on  delivery  of  his  two  pounds. 

In  fact,  before  the  day  was  done  I  got  them 
both  to  sign  documents;  because,  as  I  say,  when 
they  once  got  together  over  it,  they  seemed  rather 
to  forget  me.  So  I  explained  to  them  that  my 
part  was  simply  that  of  a  financier,  and  that  many 
men  made  their  whole  living  in  that  way,  arrang- 
ing supplies  for  demands  and  bringing  capitalists 
together  in  a  friendly  spirit.  But  not  for  noth- 
ing. 

They  quite  saw  it,  but  thought  I  asked  too  much. 
However,  I  was  older  than  they  were,  and  speedily 
convinced  them  that  I  had  not. 

There  was  only  one  difficulty  in  the  way  after 
this,  and  Protheroe  came  to  me  about  it,  and  I 
helped  him  over  it  free  of  charge.     He  said : 

"  When   I  take  home  the  prize,  what  shall   I 


284  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

say  it's  for?  You  know  what  my  school  reports 
are  like.  There's  never  a  loophole  for  a  prize  of 
any  kind." 

"  You  might  say  good  conduct,"  I  suggested ; 
but  Protheroe  min.  scorned  the  thought. 

"  That  would  give  away  the  whole  show  at  once," 
he  said.  "  Because  even  my  mother  wouldn't  be 
deceived.  It's  no  good  taking  back  a  prize  for 
good  conduct  when  the  report  will  be  sure  to  read 
as  usual  — '  No  attempt  at  any  improvement,' 
which  is  how  it  always  goes." 

Everything  I  suggested,  Protheroe  scoffed  at  in 
the  same  way,  so  I  could  see  the  prize  would  have 
to  be  for  something  not  mentioned  at  all  in  the 
school  report. 

Of  course,  you  don't  get  book  prizes  for  cricket, 
or  footer,  or  running,  which  —  especially  the  lat- 
ter —  were  the  only  things  that  Protheroe  min. 
could  have  hoped  honestly  to  get  a  prize  for.  But 
I  stuck  to  the  problem,  and  had  a  very  happy  idea 
three  nights  before  the  end  of  the  term.  I  then 
advised  Protheroe  to  say  the  prize  was  for  "  cal- 
isthenics." 

There  are  no  prizes  for  calisthenics  at  Merivale; 
but  it  sounded  rather  a  likely  subject,  especially 
as  he  was  a  dab  at  it.     And,  anyway,  he  thought 


THE  LAST  OF  MITCHELL  285 

it   would   satisfy   his    mother   and   be   all    right. 

So  that  was  settled,  and  it  only  remained  for 
Mayne  to  get  his  lawful  prizes  and  hand  over  the 
least  important  to  Protheroe  min. 

It  all  went  exceedingly  well  —  at  the  start  — 
and  young  Mayne  got  the  prizes  and  gave  Pro- 
theroe the  second,  which  was  for  literature. 

The  thing  was  composed  entirely  of  poems  — 
Longfellow,  or  Southey,  or  some  such  blighter  — 
and  Protheroe  said  that  his  mother  would  fairly 
revel  to  think  that  he  had  won  it.  He  packed  it 
in  his  box  after  "  breaking  up,"  and  we  exchanged 
our  agreements;  and  it  came  out,  when  all  was 
over,  that  young  Mayne  was  to  have  two  pounds 
out  of  Protheroe's  five,  and  I  was  to  have  ten  bob 
from  Mayne  and  a  pound  from  Protheroe  —  thirty 
shillings  in  all;  and  Protheroe  would  have  the 
prize  and  two  pounds,  not  to  mention  other 
pickings,  which  would  doubtless  be  given  to  him 
by  his  proud  and  grateful  mother. 

You  might  have  thought  that  nothing  could  go 
wrong  with  a  sound  financial  scheme  of  that  sort. 
I  put  any  amount  of  time  and  thought  into  the 
transaction,  and  as  it  was  my  first  introduction 
into  the  world  of  business,  so  to  speak,  and  I  stood 
to  net  a  clear  thirty  shillings,  naturally  I  left  no 


286  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

stone  unturned,  as  they  say,  to  make  it  a  brilliant 
and  successful  affair. 

And  yet  it  all  went  to  utter  and  hopeless  smash, 
though  it  was  no  fault  of  mine. 

And  you  certainly  coudn't  blame  Protheroe  min. 
or  Mayne  either.  In  fact,  Protheroe  must  have 
carried  it  off  very  well  when  he  got  home,  and  the 
calisthenics  went  down  all  right ;  and  Mayne,  when 
his  people  asked  how  it  was  that  he  hadn't  got 
more  than  one  prize,  was  ingenious  enough  to  say 
that  he'd  suffered  from  hay  fever  all  the  term  and 
been  too  off  colour  to  make  his  usual  haul. 

So  everything  would  have  been  perfection  but 
for  the  idiotic  and  footling  behaviour  of  Protheroe 
min.'s  mother. 

This  excitable  and  weak-minded  woman  was  not 
content  with  just  quietly  taking  the  prize  and  put- 
ting it  in  a  glass  case  with  the  prizes  won  in  the 
past  by  Protheroe's  brothers.  She  must  go  flutter- 
ing about  telling  his  wretched  relations  what  he'd 
done ;  and,  as  if  that  was  not  enough,  she  got  alto- 
gether above  herself  and  wrote  to  Dr.  Dunston 
about  it.  She  said  how  glad  and  happy  it  had 
made  her,  and  that  success  in  the  gymnasium  was 
something  to  begin  with,  and  that  she  hoped  and 
prayed  that  it  would  lead  to  better  things,  and 


THE  LAST  OF  MITCHELL  287 

that  they  would  live  to  be  proud  of  Protheroe  min- 
imus yet,  and  such-like  truck ! 

Well,  the  result  was  a  knock-down  blow  to  us 
all,  as  you  may  imagine,  and  the  Doctor  showed 
himself  both  wily  and  beastly,  as  usual.  For  he 
merely  asked  Protheroe's  mother  to  send  back  the 
prize  at  the  beginning  of  the  term,  as  he  fancied 
there  might  have  been  some  mistake ;  but  he  begged 
her  not  to  mention  the  matter  to  Protheroe 
minimus. 

So  when  Protheroe  and  Mayne  and  myself  all 
arrived  again  for  the  arduous  toil  of  the  winter 
term,  and  Mayne  and  I  were  eager  for  the  financial 
disimbursements  to  begin,  we  heard  the  shatter- 
ing news  that,  at  the  last  moment,  Protheroe 
hadn't  got  his  fiver. 

It  was  to  have  been  given  to  him  on  the  day 
that  he  came  back  to  school;  but  instead  his 
mother  had  merely  told  him  that  she  feared  there 
was  a  little  mistake  somewhere,  and  that  she 
couldn't  give  him  his  hard-earned  cash  till  Dr. 
Dunston  had  cleared  the  matter  up. 

Needless  to  say  that  Dunston  did  clear  it  up 
with  all  the  brutality  of  which  he  was  capable. 

As  for  myself,  when  the  crash  came,  I  hoped 
it  would  happen  to  me  as  it  often  does  to  profes- 


288  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

sional  financiers  in  real  life,  and  that  I  should 
escape,  as  it  were.  Not,  of  course,  that  I  had  done 
anything  that  in  fairness  made  it  necessary  for  me 
to  escape,  because  to  take  advantage  of  supply  and 
demand  is  a  natural  law  of  self-preservation,  and 
everybody  does  it  as  a  matter  of  course,  not  only 
financiers. 

But,  much  to  my  annoyance,  the  common-sense 
view  of  the  thing  was  not  taken,  and  I  found  my- 
self "  in  the  cart,"  as  they  say,  with  young  Mayne 
and  Protheroe  minimus. 

The  Doctor,  on  examining  Protheroe's  prize  for 
calisthenics,  instantly  perceived  that  it  was  in 
reality  young  Mayne's  prize  for  literature.  But 
evidently  anything  like  strategy  of  this  kind  was 
very  distasteful  to  the  Doctor.  In  fact,  he  took 
a  prejudiced  view  from  the  first,  and  as  young 
Mayne  was  only  eleven  and  Protheroe  min.  merely 
ten  and  a  half,  it  instantly  jumped  to  Dunston's 
hateful  and  suspicious  mind  that  somebody  must 
have  helped  them  in  what  he  called  a  "nefarious 
project."  And,  by  dint  of  some  very  unmanly 
cross-questioning,  he  got  my  name  out  of  Mayne. 

I  never  blamed  Mayne;  in  fact,  I  quite  believed 
him  when  he  swore  that  it  only  slipped  out  under 
the  treacherous  questions  of  the  Doctor;  but  the 


THE  LAST  OF  MITCHELL  289 

result  was,  of  course,  unsatisfactory  in  every  way 
for  me. 

I  was  immediately  sent  for,  and  had  no  course 
open  to  me  but  to  explain  the  whole  nature  of 
financial  operations  to  Dr.  Dunston,  and  try  to 
make  him  see  that  I  had  simply  fallen  in  with  the 
iron  laws  of  supply  and  demand. 

Needless  to  say,  I  failed,  for  he  was  in  one  of 
his  fiery  and  snorting  conditions  and  above  all  ap- 
peal to  reason. 

"  It  was  an  ordinary  sort  of  transaction,  sir,"  I 
said,  "  and  I  don't  see  that  anybody  was  hurt  by 
it.  In  fact,  everybody  was  pleased,  including  Mrs. 
Protheroe." 

This  made  him  simply  foam  at  the  mouth. 

I  had  never  been  what  you  may  call  a  great  suc- 
cess with  him,  and  now  to  hear  sound  business 
views  from  one  still  at  the  early  age  of  sixteen, 
fairly  shook  him  up. 

He  ordered  me  to  go  back  to  my  class,  and  when 
I  had  gone,  he  flogged  young  Mayne  and  Protheroe 
minimus.  He  then  forgave  them  and  told  them  to 
go  and  sin  no  more;  and  the  same  day,  doubtless 
after  the  old  fool  had  cooled  down  a  bit,  he  wrote 
to  my  father  and  put  the  case  before  him  —  though 
not  quite  fairly  —  and  said  that,  apparently,  I  had 


290  THE  HUMAN  BOY  AND  WAR 

no  moral  sense,  and  a  lot  of  other  insulting  and 
vulgar  things.  In  conclusion,  he  asked  my  father 
to  remove  me,  that  I  might  find  another  sphere 
for  my  activities. 

And  my  father  did. 

He  never  took  my  view  of  the  matter  exactly; 
but  he  certainly  did  not  take  Dr.  Dunston's  view 
either.  He  seemed  to  be  more  amused  than  any- 
thing, and  was  by  no  means  in  such  a  wax  with 
Dr.  Dunston  as  I  should  have  expected. 

He  said  that  the  scholastic  point  of  view  was 
rather  stuffy  and  lacked  humour;  and  then  he  ex- 
plained that  I  had  certainly  not  acted  quite  on  the 
straight,  but  had  been  a  "  deceitful  and  cunning 
little  bounder." 

I  was  a  good  deal  hurt  at  this  view,  and  when 
he  found  a  billet  for  me  in  the  firm  of  Messrs. 
Martin  &  Moss,  Stock  Brokers,  I  felt  very  glad 
indeed  to  go  into  it  and  shake  off  the  dust  of  school 
from  my  feet,  as  they  say. 

It  is  a  good  and  a  busy  firm,  and  I  have  been 
here  a  fortnight  now.  Ten  days  ago,  happening 
to  pass  Mr.  Martin's  door,  and  catching  my  name, 
I  naturally  stood  and  listened  and  heard  an  old 
clerk  tell  Mr.  Martin  that  I  was  taking  to  the 
work  like  a  duck  takes  to  water. 


THE  LAST  OF  MITCHELL  291 

I  am  writing  this  account  of  the  business  at 
Merivale  on  sheets  of  the  best  correspondence 
paper  of  Messrs.  Martin  &  Moss ! 

They  would  not  like  it  if  they  knew. 

But  they  won't  know. 


THE   END 


Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America, 


'T^HE  following  pages  contain  advertisements 
of  Macmillan  books  by  the  same  author 


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Old  Delabole 


By  EDEN  PHILLPOTTS 
Author  of  "  Brunei's  Tower,"  etc. 

Cloth,  i2mo,  $i.so 

A  critic  in  reviewing  Brunei's  Tower  remarked  that  it  would  seem  that 
Eden  Phillpotts  was  now  doing  the  best  work  of  his  career.  There  was 
sufficient  argument  for  this  contention  in  the  novel  then  under  considera- 
tion and  further  demonstration  of  its  truth  is  found  in  Old  Delabole, 
which,  because  of  its  cheerful  and  wise  philosophy  and  its  splendid  feeling 
for  nature  and  man's  relation  to  it,  will  perhaps  ultimately  take  its  place 
as  its  author's  best.  The  scene  is  laid  in  Cornwall.  Delabole  is  a  slate 
mining  town  and  the  tale  which  Mr.  Phillpotts  tells  against  it  as  a  back- 
ground, one  in  which  a  matter  of  honor  or  of  conscience  is  the  pivot,  is 
dramatic  in  situation  and  doubly  interesting  because  of  the  moral  problem 
which  it  presents.  Mr.  Phillpotts's  artistry  and  keen  perception  of  those 
motives  which  actuate  conduct  have  never  been  better  exhibited. 

"  Another  good  story  from  an  able  hand." —  New  York  Sun. 

"  A  novel  of  large  significance." —  Boston  Herald. 

"  A  more  effective  piece  of  dramatic  description  could  scarcely  be  put 
into  print." — Nrrth  American  {Philadelphia). 

"  Besides  being  a  good  story,  richly  peopled,  and  brimful  of  human  na- 
ture in  its  finer  aspects,  the  book  is  seasoned  with  quiet  humor  and  a  deal 
of  mellow  wisdom." — New  York  Times. 


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Brunei's  Tower 


By  EDEN  PHILLPOTTS 

Cloth,  izmo,  $1.50 

The  regeneration  of  a  faulty  character  through  association 
with  dignified,  honest  work  and  simple,  sincere  people  is  the 
theme  which  Mr,  Phillpotts  has  chosen  for  his  latest  novel. 
Always  an  artist,  he  has,  in  this  book,  made  what  will  perhaps 
prove  to  be  his  most  notable  contribution  to  literature.  Hu- 
mor and  a  genuine  sympathetic  understanding  of  the  human 
soul  are  reflected  throughout  it.  The  scene  is  largely  laid  in 
a  pottery,  and  the  reader  is  introduced  in  the  course  of  the 
action  to  the  various  processes  in  the  art.  The  central  figure 
is  a  lad  who,  having  escaped  from  a  reform  school,  has  sought 
shelter  and  work  in  the  pottery.  Under  the  influence  of  the 
gentle,  kindly  folk  of  the  community  he  comes  in  a  measure 
to  realize  himself. 

"  It  touches  lightly  upon  love,  upon  the  pathos  of  old  age,  upon 
the  workman's  passion  for  his  work,  upon  the  artist's  worshipi 
of  his  art,  upon  an  infinite  variety  of  human  ways  and  moods, 
and  it  is  filled  to  its  depths  with  reflections  upon  life  that  are 
very  near  to  life  itself.  It  is  Mr.  Phillpotts  at  his  character- 
istic best." — Boston  Transcript. 

"The  daily  bread  of  life  is  in  this  book  .  .  .  magnificently 
written,  .  .  .  absorbingly  interesting,  and  holds  that  element 
of  surprise  which  is  never  lacking  in  the  work  of  the  true 
story  teller.  It  is  a  book  for  which  to  be  frankly  grateful, 
for  it  holds  matter  for  many  hours'  enjoyment. —  New  York 
Times. 


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f ublishers      64-66  Fifth  Avenue      New  York 


BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR 


Faith  Tresilion 


Decorated  Cloth,  i2mo,  $1.35  ■ 

"Its  movement  is  brisk,  and  the  development  of  its  plot  is  em- 
phasized at  certain  steps  with  sudden  surprises — all  of  which  con- 
tribute toward  holding  the  reader's  attention." — New  York  limes. 

"  A  rousing  story,  having  about  it  the  tang  and  flavor  of  the  sea,  and 
with  the  sound  of  trumpets  ringing  through.  .  .  .  Mr. 
Phillpotts  has  chosen  a  period  of  thrills  for  his  story  and  has  suc- 
ceeded very  well  in  putting  across  the  bracing  atmosphere  of  perilous 
times.  His  portrayal  of  the  coast  folk  of  Daleham  rings  true  and 
refreshing. " — Kansas  City  Star. 
"A  tale  picturesque  in  its  scenes  and  rich  in  its  character." 

— Boston  Transcript. 

"Mr.  Phillpotts  may  be  congratulated  upon  having  written  a  re- 
markable book  in  which  there  is  not  a  dull  page." 

— Philadelphia  Ledger. 

"A  book  that  is  distinctly  interesting." — New  York  Herald. 

"No  character  that  Mr.  Phillpotts  has  created  can  surpass  that  of 
Emma  Tresilion." — Boston  Times. 

"It  is  a  very  readable  story. " — The  Outlook. 

"A  book  of  stirring  adventure  and  sensational  experiences." 

— Literary  Digest. 

"Never  has  Eden  Phillpotts  written  so  swinging  a  romance. " 

— Bellman. 

"A  rattling  good  story." — Los  Angeles  Times. 


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OTHER  OF  MR.  EDEN  PHILLPOTTS*  NOVELS 

The  Three  Brothers 

Cloth,  i2mo,  $1.50 
'"The  Three  Brothers'  seems  to  us  the  best  yet  of  the  long  series 
of  these  remarkable  Dartmoor  tales.  If  Shakespeare  had  written 
novels  we  can  think  that  some  of  his  pages  would  have  been  like 
some  of  these.  .  .  .  The  book  is  full  of  a  very  movin;];  interest, 
and  it  is  agreeable  and  beautiful. " — New  York  Sun. 


Knock  at  a  Venture 


Cloth,  i2mo,  $1.50 
Sketches  of  the  rustic  life  of  Devon,  rich  in  racy,  quaint,  and  humor- 
ous touches. 


The  Portreeve 


Cloth,  i2mo,  $1.50 
"Twice,  at  least,  he  has  reached  and  even  surpassed  the  standard  of 
his  first  notable  work.  Once  was  in  '  The  Secret  Woman. '  The 
second  time  is  in  'The  Portreeve.'  In  sheer  mastery  of  tech- 
nique it  is  the  finest  thing  he  has  done.  From  the  beginning  to  the 
end  the  author's  touch  is  assured  and  unfaltering.  There  is  nothing 
superfluous,  nothing  unfinished.  .  .  .  And  the  characters,  even 
to  the  least  important,  have  the  breath  of  life  in  them. " 

— The  Providence  Journal. 


My  Devon  Year 


Cloth,  8vo,  $2.00,  with  38  Monotint  plates,  $2.00 
"One  of  the  most  charming  nature  books  recently  published.  .  .  . 
This  book  will  inspire  such  persons  and  many  others  to  get  back  to 
Mother  Earth  and  see  her  wonders  with  a  new  eye.  To  those  who 
know  the  rich  Devon  country  it  describes  'My  Devon  Year'  is  a 
delight  from  beginning  to  end,  but  this  knowledge  is  not  essential 
to  its  thorough  enjoyment. " — New  York  Mail. 


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